Uninvited
by BreakingFable
Summary: Undertaker pays Jeff a visit one dark and stormy night. Abuse, non-con.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey there, folks. Just a warning concerning the story you're about to read: Undertaker's portrayed as a terrible, terrible person. Also, as a brutal abuser. If you're a fan** **and don't care for that sort of abuse of the Deadman's persona, feel free to check out now. Otherwise, strap yourselves in. It's gonna be a wild ride.**

**I do not own any of the characters in this story; if I did would be writing fanfiction about them? All are property of themselves, and WWE.**

The night was terribly dark. There were hints of stormclouds bruising the starless sky, surely heralding a storm. A cool wind began to pick up suddenly, pulling the trees back and forth in an obscene and angry dance.

Thunder rolled across the empty Texas plain. The man in the black truck smiled. He loved nights like these.

His smile only widened as he thought of his destination. His foot unconsciously hit the accelerator as he rummaged around in the dark with his free hand. After a few moments, he discovered the cell phone he'd been looking for, lodged inside the cup holder.

He dialed a familiar number, and waited only half a ring before the person on the other end picked up.

"Mark?", came the unsteady, quiet voice. He sounded tired.

"Jeffrey", Mark replied steadily, his tone unreadable, "I'm on my way over."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the phone.

Mark smiled. He lived for this.

"I assume you're by yourself", the Deadman said, his voice eerily calm.

"Y- Yes, of course!", stammered Jeff, obviously agitated by Mark's tone, "I just-"

"It's alright, Jeffrey", interrupted Mark. His voice hardened abruptly. "Just make sure you're ready for me when I get there."

He hung up, not waiting for a reply. A predatory grin spread slowly across his chiseled features.

This was going to be fun.

* * * * * * *

Jeff paced back and forth in his small, sparsely-decorated hotel room. He just needed to get this over with, so he could get some sleep. He felt like he hadn't slept in a hundred years.

He hadn't meant this to go as far as it had. He'd always wanted to have a fling with the great and powerful Undertaker, despite everyone in the locker room strongly advising him to stay away for his own safety. But Jeff had been intrigued. What made the man so damn dangerous? He'd wanted to know.

As always, he'd leapt before he looked, and this time, it had burned him, badly.

He'd found out, many times, what it meant to be on the receiving end of the Undertaker's punishment. And, he thought with a chill, he had a feeling he'd be experiencing more of that tonight.

With uneasy desperation, he wondered if he should call Matt for help. But his brother was taping with the other brand, in another state. What could he do? Besides, he didn't want Matt to know about the things Mark made him do.

His head shot up as the sound of knuckles rapping lightly on the wooden door met his ears. He thought for one wild moment about not answering, about barricading himself in here until Mark got bored or tired and decided to leave. Maybe he would cause such a commotion that they would arrest him. Jeff immediately dismissed the idea when he realized that he would be out within a few days at the most, and his punishment for such disobedience would be swift, and awful.

No, best to just get it over with.

Sighing miserably, Jeff shuffled quickly over to the door and opened it. He kept his head down, and his eyes averted, as Mark preferred.

He felt the big man move past him into the room. Jeff closed the door with the air of a man walking to the gallows.

"Hello, Jeffrey", he sighed audibly, "God, how I've missed that face." There was dark glee in his voice. Jeff found it disturbing.

Mark walked towards him, his movements reminding the young Hardy of a stalking cat. The tall man reached out and stroked calloused fingers down the smooth skin of Jeff's cheek. As soon as he was touched, every muscle in his body tensed in fear. Mark seemed to like this reaction. He leaned in to whisper in the smaller man's ear.

"What's wrong?" The Undertaker pushed a hand into the unruly mop of blue and pink hair, grabbing tight. He flicked his tongue up the lobe of Jeff's ear, causing him to whimper. He laughed, enjoying the smaller man's discomfiture.

Jeff looked away. "Nothing's wrong", he replied softly, fear present in his quivering voice, "I'm just surprised to see you, I guess."

Mark scowled, and yanked the colorful clump of hair roughly. Jeff let out a yelp of pain.

"You little slut", the Deadman growled, "You were hoping I wouldn't show because you had someone else here, didn't you? _Didn't you_?!"

The young Hardy's green eyes widened in terror. He shook his head dumbly in protest.

Mark pushed Jeff forcefully into a wall, and wrapped a huge hand around his slender throat.

Jeff struggled weakly. "Please, Mark", he whispered, "Don't-"

The Undertaker slapped him. "Shut up, you little whore", he grated. Jeff whimpered, trying desperately to pull away from the furious death's head that was Mark Calloway.

Mark began to drag him towards the center of the room then. He pushed him down roughly, so that he fell onto his side.

"Get onto your knees."

Jeff immediately complied, afraid of pissing Mark off anymore than he already was. His hair fell into his face as he turned his face downwards and averted his eyes.

Mark bent over him, making him extremely uneasy. "Look at me, whore."

Shaking, Jeff did so.

"Now, you know the rules, Jeffrey", Mark said softly, reaching down to push a stray lock of pink hair behind the younger man's ear, "There are to be no others."

"But-"

"SILENCE!" Mark looked as if he were going to destroy something. Jeff had a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"What did we decide would happen, should one's eye decide to roam?" Jeff thought to himself that _he _had never decided anything. "Jeffrey?", Mark prompted, his voice cold.

Hating himself for not being able to fight back, hating himself for being here, Jeff quietly uttered, "Punishment."

The Undertaker smiled, an evil grimace. "That's right. Just remember, little whore. You brought everything I do to you tonight on yourself."

* * * * * * *

**Uh-oh, Jeff's in trouble! Stay tuned to see what happens next! **

**R/R…..**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just wanted to say a quick thank you to those who reviewed, and to those are still hanging around for another dose of Jeff torture. You've gotta love the guy, really. ;)**

**WWE owns all; I own zip.**

**On with the fun!**

Jeff's quick eyes studied the drab pattern in the carpet, moving over the faded oranges and yellows beneath his sore knees. He shifted slightly, but did not dare look up. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain, as a large clump of his hair was fisted by the brutish man standing above him.

Mark pulled Jeff up by the tangle of blue and pink strands in his grasp, earning a pitiful whimper from the terrified Enigma.

"Stand there, and don't move", growled the imposing man.

Jeff dropped his gaze to the floor as the Undertaker moved around behind him. He could hear him quietly shuffling around. Trying to block out the clawing fear of what was to come, he stood, silent and waiting.

Mark finished whatever he'd been doing, and he now stood directly in front of his victim, a grim smile crossing his gargoyle-like face.

"Look at me, Jeffrey."

Shaking, Jeff looked up. The Undertaker had shed his black shirt, and was wearing only a pair of worn jeans. Jeff's gaze traveled slowly downward.

He held a belt in his hands.

The young Hardy's eyes widened, and he backed up a step. Mark smile evoked quiet amusement as he moved forward. He took Jeff's arm in a tight grip and dragged him, stumbling, over to the bed. The tall man threw him down roughly onto his stomach, holding him there by placing his knee firmly on the smaller man's back. By pure instinct, Jeff began to fight him. He kicked his legs and punched blindly.

"Stop moving around, you little bitch!", Mark growled furiously. He slapped Jeff on the back of his colorful head to drive the point home. The younger man's struggles immediately ceased.

He pulled Jeff's arms behind him, and bound them with the belt.

The young Hardy lay perfectly still, breathing raggedly into the rough hotel sheets. He tried desperately to fight down the fear that was roiling in his gut.

Mark flipped him over to lie on his back. Jeff stared up at his attacker, and winced. He hated the ravenous look in the Undertaker's eyes as he appraised every inch of his body.

Mark reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small switchblade. He grinned.

Jeff tried to move away, not knowing what the unpredictable man had in mind. He'd never brought weapons to their little get-togethers before. When he saw Jeff squirming, the Undertaker frowned. He opened the knife and pushed the small blade into the soft flesh of Hardy's throat. The younger man froze, green eyes wide.

"Stay still, little whore", the large man growled angrily, "Not a peep out of you." Jeff's gaze traveled downward to the rock-steady hand holding the knife at his jugular. His breath hitched in fear. A dark grin upon his face, Mark immediately began cutting Jeff's shirt off. After a few moments, the tattered remnants of a t-shirt fell to the ground.

"Raise your hips, Jeffrey."

Jeff did so, aiding Mark in removing his jeans and underwear. He lay on the bed, tied up and fully exposed for Mark to do with as he pleased. Jeff prayed that tonight he would finish quickly.

Mark stood.

"Get on your knees for me, bitch", he said, his eyes roving over every inch of Jeff's naked body.

His features carefully schooled into an expression of neutrality, Jeff moved off of the bed and gracefully sank to his knees. The Undertaker immediately grabbed hold of his chin and forced him to look up at him.

"You know you've been a very bad boy, Jeffrey", he said softly, "I tolerate so much from you, and yet you continue to test the limits of my generosity."

His grip tightened, causing Jeff to wince in pain.

"If you want to be treated like a worthless slut, then I'll be glad to oblige you."

He continued to hold Jeff's chin with one hand, while undoing his zipper with the other. He pulled out his cock, which was quite hard, and weeping with pre-cum.

"Suck me, you little bitch", he said.

With no warning, he hit Jeff across the face, hard. The young Hardy cried out as pain lanced across his cheek.

"I said suck me!", yelled Mark. He grabbed Jeff's hair and pulled him into his throbbing member.

Jeff had no choice but to open his mouth and take Mark in. The larger man immediately let out a throaty, almost animalistic groan when Jeff began moving his lips up and down on the shaft. The young Hardy closed his eyes and told himself to just get it over with. He began using his tongue, swirling it around the tip. Mark moaned in pleasure.

"Yesssss, my little bitch… you love eating cock, don't you…", Mark hissed as Jeff continued to go down on him.

Mark grabbed his hair, and began to roughly guide his movements. Jeff thought he would choke when the larger man forced him to swallow the entire length of his cock. His breaths came in ragged spurts as he tried desperately to finish the larger man off.

Mark's orgasm came suddenly. A river of cum flooded into Jeff's mouth. When the younger man moved to spit it out, Mark swept forward like a bird of prey. He covered Jeff's mouth, and pinched his nose shut.

"Swallow it, boy", he said, his voice dangerous.

Jeff's eyes met those of the Undertaker. He swallowed the reservoir of semen sitting in his mouth, unable to conceal a wince as he did so. Nodding, Mark released him.

"Get up."

Jeff didn't hesitate. He stood, waiting for Mark's next little activity to begin. Better than ending up in the hospital, like the last time.

The Undertaker took Jeff's arm and guided him roughly to the bed. He positioned him so that he was facing it, with his spread knees touching the mattress. Jeff felt a hand in the small of his back, pushing his upper body down. Now he was standing, head pushed into the mattress, naked ass in the air. This didn't look good.

He felt Mark's rough hands, running all over his body. Those hands stroked his cock, bringing it to life. Simultaneously, a finger entered his asshole, then another, probing and stretching. Mark began to alternate between stroking his now very hard shaft and playing with his balls. Jeff was unable to suppress a throaty moan when a third finger was added to stretch out his tightly puckered hole. He unconsciously raised his ass higher in the air, begging without words for Mark to fuck him right there and now.

And, suddenly, cruelly, it stopped.

Jeff nearly screamed in frustration. He started to shift, to try and see where Mark had gone. A hand fell onto his ass, and lay there possessively.

"Don't dare move", ordered the Undertaker.

Jeff returned to his original position, and stayed as still as possible.

"Stay", he growled, running a finger lightly up and down the crack of Jeff's ass, "If I come back and find that you've moved, well…" He slapped the smaller man's behind, hard. Jeff whimpered in pain. "It would only give me more of a reason to punish you."

Mark moved away from Jeff, leaving him naked and bound and very uncomfortable. Jeff heard the rustle of fabric, followed by the door opening and closing.

He was alone.

Jeff's breath caught in his throat. He should get up right now, run, and hide. The Enigma shifted uncomfortably. No, if Mark caught him, it would be all over.

He wished he had listened to those cautionary voices, the ones that had told him it was madness to get involved with the Undertaker. Why did he always have to prove everyone wrong, even at the expense of his well-being? Matt had been one of those cautionary voices. What would he say now, seeing his baby brother like this?

"God dammit", he breathed.

The latch to the door clicked, signaling Mark's return. Jeff froze.

The young Hardy heard the door swing open, and heavy footsteps enter. The door shut. He could hear Mark moving towards him, slowly. He could feel the Deadman's cold gaze on every inch of his exposed skin.

Jeff jumped when Mark began to speak.

"You've been a good little bitch, Jeffrey", he said in his even-toned, rough voice, "So I brought you a present."

The big man placed a worn, black suitcase on the bed, in Jeff's field of vision. It was dirty, and pieces of its outer skin were hanging off. The words "TOY BOX" were emblazoned across it in bright red letters.

The bottom dropped out of Jeff's stomach as he stared at the thing. He felt Mark's hands on him once again, and had to swallow the bile in his throat.

Jeff did not want to know what was inside of the toy box.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update this. JNHwwe and Renna33, thanks for the kind reviews; NeroAnne, yeah, Mark has issues, but would the story be as fun if he didn't? (heehee)**

**As always, I own nothing and no one, WWE owns everything.**

**I love reviews everybody! Keep 'em coming!**

"Open it", growled Mark, a dark grin on his face.

He had untied Jeff's hands, and was currently gripping him by the back of the neck in a disturbingly possessive fashion.

Jeff just stared at the imposing black suitcase, which was lying on the bed like a silent threat. He had no desire to go anywhere near the thing.

Mark shook him roughly. "I said open it, bitch!"

Jeff glanced back at the larger man with pleading green eyes, knowing all the while that his fate was sealed. The Undertaker began to push him towards the Toy Box.

With shaking hands, Jeff unlatched it, and slowly pushed the top open. His eyes widened in horror at what he saw, and he took a step back, away from the bed. He felt the naked skin of his back and ass bump into the wall of muscle that was the Undertaker. The large man wrapped his arms around Jeff, lowering his hand to cup the younger man's balls. Jeff gasped, squirming, as his member was grasped and fondled.

"Like what you see?", he asked, disregarding Jeff's obvious distress.

Jeff stared. He'd never seen anything like the Undertaker's Toy Box before. It was a study in depravity. Dildos of every imaginable size and shape were neatly laid out, from smallest to largest. Cock rings. Whips, handcuffs, ball gags, rope, a paddle. There was something that looked… mechanical. Jeff swallowed nervously.

There were bulging zippered compartments, concealing god only knew what. Jeff tensed as his eyes roamed the instruments of punishment packed into the case like so much baggage.

Mark took him by the shoulders, and turned him so that they were facing each other. The smaller man's gaze slid to the floor. Mark grinned.

"Rope or cuffs, bitch?"

Jeff shrugged, shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Cuffs, then. Give me your hands."

Jeff held his hands out in front of him, his face an expressionless mask.

Mark handcuffed him, then stepped back to admire his handiwork. He raised a finger to his lips, pondering, as he looked the young Hardy over.

"What to do with a bitch that's in sore need of punishment?", he said to himself.

A flash of fear crossed Jeff's face.

Mark began digging through the Toy Box, muttering to himself. After several tense moments, he found what he was looking for. The imposing man produced a huge black dildo, with straps attached to it. Jeff looked from it to Mark, and back to it. There was no way in hell that thing was fitting in his ass.

"We're gonna stretch you out, to start", said Mark, "Bend over, and spread those pretty legs."

Sighing inwardly, Jeff did as he was told. He leaned over the bed and rested his weight on his cuffed arms, while spreading his legs apart as wide as they would go. Mark slapped his upturned ass, eliciting a pained whimper from the Enigma.

The big man grabbed a well-used tube of lubrication from the suitcase, and began to rub it generously onto the surface of the huge black dildo. Jeff yelped when he felt the cold rubber touch him suddenly. Mark began to ease the mammoth thing in between the younger man's taut cheeks.

"I'd relax if I were you", said Mark, a crooked smile on his face.

He began to push the huge dildo into Jeff's asshole, working it slowly at first. Jeff was panting, and trying desperately not to cry out in pain. Pink and blue hair fell into his eyes as he gripped the bedsheets, agony written on his fine features. Mark was unrelenting, however, and before long the thing was buried completely inside of the shaking, sweating Enigma. The Undertaker gave Jeff no time to recover. Mark pulled him to his feet, and pulled the two straps attached to the end of the dildo around to the front, attaching them firmly at Jeff's bellybutton. That dildo wasn't going anywhere.

He patted the younger man on the cheek.

"We'll take it out later."

The young Hardy shot him a look of disdain, pulling away from his hand. Mark grinned, before turning back to the Toy Box.

"Hmmmmm, what next?", he mused, rifling through the worn suitcase. He froze suddenly, a slow smile spreading across his chiseled features. "Oh, perfect…", he said to himself.

Jeff felt chilled by those words.

Mark's dark gaze moved back to the young Hardy.

"Get on the bed", he ordered, his tone no-nonsense, "On all fours. Now."

Jeff moved slowly, his movements impeded by the dildo in his ass. He climbed onto the bed, and got onto his hands and knees. The young Hardy winced as he felt the dildo shift when he changed position.

He heard Mark take something out of the Toy Box, but couldn't see what, as it was behind him on the bed. His muscles tensed. He hated not knowing what was coming next, and knowing the Undertaker, it could be anything. Though, he supposed he should look on the bright side; there wasn't much more Mark could do to his asshole.

Jeff jumped when he suddenly felt smooth, cold tendrils run slowly across his naked back.

"What the fuck?", he said aloud, turning his head in an effort to see what Mark had planned now. He saw the item in the big man's hands out of the corner of his eye. His breath hitched in his throat.

"Face front, bitch", ordered Mark, his tone no-nonsense. He grabbed the back of Hardy's head and forced him to face the drab wall once again.

Jeff's thoughts were racing. He was getting truly scared now. Mark had pulled out a cat o' nine tails. The young Hardy knew he could do some serious damage with an item like that if he got too into it. Jeff had learned long ago that he always, somehow, got too into it, and that he was utterly unapologetic about hurting him. At first, Jeff had found his dark, unflagging confidence unbelievably sexy. As time went on, however, he'd learned a difficult lesson, taught to him through long nights of torturous pain and pleasure. He had learned never, ever to trust the Undertaker.

The bottom line was, he should've found a way to bail on this fucked up, one-sided "relationship" long ago. Now he was paying for his foolishness.

Jeff squirmed under Mark's firm, attentive hands.

"M- Mark?", he ventured unsteadily, his voice shaking, "P- Please don't…"

The hands stopped, though the leather braids of the whip remained on his back, lying there like dozing snakes.

Jeff felt the breath of the Deadman on his neck.

"You don't want the whip, little slut?", he asked, his hand roughly stroking over Jeff's ass, petting him like a dog.

The smaller man pulled away. "Stop it!", he yelled, unable to contain himself. He seemed to immediately regret his outburst, pulling in on himself like a terrified child.

Mark glared at him, infuriated. He reached back and hit him across the face with all the force he could muster, causing the smaller man to cry out in pain and fly backwards onto the bed. The Deadman hit him again, causing blood-flecked spittle to hit the white sheets. Jeff threw his cuffed hands up in front of his face, trying to protect himself.

Mark pulled him up by his hair, forcing the younger man to face him. His lip was bleeding, the Deadman noted with some small bit of satisfaction.

"Get… on… your… hands… and… knees", he drew out each word, speaking slowly.

Defeated, Jeff did so.

Mark retrieved the evil-looking whip from the floor, stroking it lovingly. He let his eyes roam Jeff's quivering naked body. Taker adjusted the growing bulge in his pants. His little bitch truly was most beautiful when he was naked and begging him to stop. A wicked smile crossed his face. He would beg some more, before this night was through.

The Undertaker raised the cat o' nine tails, and brought it down across Jeff's shaking back. It left nine thin trails of blood, similar in appearance to cat scratches. The big man smiled. He'd always loved this whip. Already, Jeff was squirming in pain. Before long, he'd be screaming.

Ten minutes later, Jeff was trying desperately to escape the bed. His back was painted with a landscape of bloody scratches. He was in agony from the pain.

"Please!", he begged, "Please, Taker, stop it! I'll do anything!!"

He struggled against the grip of the larger man, hurting everywhere and losing energy fast.

Taker got up, leaving Jeff shaking and in pain on the bed.

The Deadman pulled down his pants, revealing a weeping erection. Without giving Jeff any time to prepare, he pulled the young man to his knees.

"Open your mouth", he growled, glaring down at the besieged Enigma.

Jeff closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. Mark grabbed his hair, pushing the young man to deep throat his impressive girth.

Jeff whimpered as he nearly choked on the Undertaker's huge cock.

"That's right", drawled Mark, "Moan for me, like the slut you are."

He began to thrust into and out of Jeff's mouth, bruising the young man's throat, mouth-fucking him for all he was worth.

Mark pulled out and cummed spectacularly, cupping his hand to catch a great deal of the sticky substance before he was done. His gaze fell to Jeff, and he held the semen-filled hand out to the younger man, who was panting and holding his throat.

"Lap it up, slut."

Jeff's eyes darkened for a moment, but he knew better than to disobey. He leaned forward, and, eyes closed, tentatively pushed his tongue into the reservoir of cum. He lapped and sucked and licked, until it was all gone. He felt disgusting for it.

Mark cupped his cheek, sneering. "Now that is a good little whore."

The young Hardy looked at the Deadman's gloating face. He felt something snap in his head.

Jeff rose to his feet, glaring. "I'm done. That's it."

Mark's furious gaze blackened. "Get back on your knees. We're not near done."

"Give me the god damn keys to the cuffs, you freak!", the young Hardy yelled, getting up in Mark's face.

Jeff knew, somewhere in his head, that yelling at a pissed off Undertaker was a very, very bad idea. He realized that he was much smaller and far less strong than said pissed off Undertaker. He had just stopped caring. Obviously, groveling on the floor wasn't doing him any good, so he'd decided to take a different tactic. He was tired of being a human fuck toy for Mark Calloway to play with.

Unfortunately for Jeff, the Undertaker liked challenges. And Jeff was, and always would be, his favorite challenge.

Jeff stood, his green eyes narrowed in a furious glare at the Deadman. "Get out of here", he said, his soft-spoken southern lilt stiff with anger.

Mark threw his head back and laughed, a deep and terrible laugh that shook Jeff's resolve to its very core. He looked at Jeff, his dark eyes raking over every inch of the smaller man's lithe frame. The young Hardy shifted uncomfortably. He was beginning to think he'd made a mistake.

Without warning, Mark speared Jeff onto the bed. He straddled him, pushing him down with his body weight, and holding his cuffed hands above his head. Jeff struggled in his grasp, trying desperately to escape.

Whatever this had been before, it was about to turn into rape.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Just wanted to thank everyone for sticking around. I know things have started to get a bit crazy. They're only going to get worse. I think I've come up with some ideas for this little tale of woe that'll hopefully pass muster. **

**Thanks to all who review; you guys are great.**

**As always, WWE owns all, I own nothing.**

**Now where were we?**

Jeff Hardy had experienced the situation many times before: a late-night phone call, an ominous knock at the door, and several hours of playing an unwilling bitch to Mark Calloway's firm and punishing master. He'd gotten used to the routine, as much as he despised it.

Mark had made him do some pretty painful things before, but he'd always felt he could handle it. Until tonight.

"Let go of me, god dammit!"

Jeff struggled wildly beneath the greater weight of the Undertaker, who was pinning him down to the bed with seemingly no effort. The man had no expression in his eyes at all when he reared back and punched Jeff across the face. The younger man's struggles ceased momentarily as he attempted to regain his equilibrium.

While he was dazed, the infuriated Deadman untied the straps securing the dildo in place. He ripped it out of Jeff with a vicious yank, causing the younger man to whimper in pain. He flipped Hardy over onto his stomach.

Without giving him any further preparation or time to recover, Mark plowed into the stretched hole the dildo had left, causing Jeff to scream in pain.

"That's right", Mark panted deep in his throat, "scream for me, you fucking whore."

He pulled almost all the way out, then thrust the entire length of his cock forcibly back into Jeff's torn asshole.

"Please, stop!", begged Jeff, his green eyes glazed over with unshed tears, "Ah- God! Please!"

"So pretty when you beg", muttered Mark.

The speed and strength of his thrusts began to increase, and Jeff found that he couldn't contain his wails.

Mark pulled out at the last second, and spat his load all over the smaller man's ass and thighs.

He got up, and looked down at Jeff. A dark smile crossed his face.

The younger man was a mess. He lay, raped, bleeding, and covered in various bodily fluids. His beautiful face was already beginning to show signs of the abuse he'd endured here tonight, swelling and bruising in various places. His back was a map of bleeding lashes.

Jeff Hardy, formerly so defiant, now lay quietly sobbing on the soiled sheets.

Mark moved in quickly, taking hold of Jeff's dick with a firm hand. The younger man tensed, too afraid to move. Smiling, the Deadman began attempting to stroke the flaccid member back to life. Jeff lay, still as stone, his eyes rolling wildly back and forth between Mark's invading hand and his sneering face.

"Leave me alone", he whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming.

Mark laughed. "I'm not done with you yet, you little slut."

Jeff just shook his head mutely, trying desperately to show him how wrong this all was. He didn't want to play the Undertaker's games anymore. He wasn't sure if he ever had.

The Deadman leaned over Jeff, and gave his cock one last hard squeeze before releasing it. "Maybe you'll remember who the bitch is, from now on." He stood up straight. "Get up."

Jeff realized it was about to start all over again. He swallowed, and shook his head no.

Eyes ablaze, Mark hit him again. Hard. His head snapped back with the force of the blow. "I said GET UP!"

"No."

"You'll get up, Jeffrey", he growled, hands curling into very sizable fists, "One way or another."

After awhile, Jeff didn't even feel anything. The pain all blended together into one smoky, grey-tinged daze. The last thing he remembered thinking before passing out was that he'd gotten himself into this in the first place. All of this was his own damned fault.

* * * * * * *

Matt Hardy was pissed off. In fact, he was _very_ pissed off, thank you very much. Jeff was late again. He loved his brother, but he was tired of playing Jeff Hardy's Administrative Assistant. He felt like he was constantly running after him these days, trying to keep him on time for signings and appearances.

He and Jeff were supposed to be in the hotel lobby _now_. He'd tried the room phone and Jeff's cell phone. Nothing. And yet, Jeff hadn't checked out. So, Matt was forced to play Hunt-For-Hardy in order to ensure that his brother didn't catch shit from Vince. He sighed. It was so irritating.

He approached the door his brother had been assigned to, and prepared himself for a fight. The older Hardy knocked, and found that the door wasn't locked. Squaring his shoulders, he pushed the wooden portal inwards. He expected to find Jeff in a state of full disarray, running around, trying to dye his hair and pack and find the perfect outfit all at the same time.

He walked in, surprised to find all of the lights off. His brow furrowed as his dark eyes ran over the room. Something wasn't right.

"Jeff?", he called, his voice sounding loud in the still air.

A moan sounded from the floor beyond the bed. Matt jumped, startled, before making his way quickly over to its source.

"Oh my God", he breathed.

He fell to his knees beside his brother. Jeff was naked, handcuffed, and unconscious, his knees drawn protectively up to his bruised and lash-marked chest.

Matt pulled his head into his lap, gently, trying to wake him.

"Jeffro", he spoke gently, despite the fear that gripped his chest, "Jeffy, wake up."

His younger brother's eyes flew open with a small cry. He threw his hands up over his face, as if to protect himself.

"No, Jeffro, it's me, it's Matt", said the older Hardy, his eyes intent on his younger brother, "It's okay. You're safe now. You're safe."

His words seemed to have some calming effect on Jeff. The younger Hardy always knew he was safe, whenever Matt was around. There was no logic to it, it was just… true.

Jeff looked up at his brother, eyes wide. "Matty…", the younger man's voice was a croaking whisper. "I'm scared… Where… where were… you…"

Jeff's eyes rolled back suddenly, and his head fell limply to the side.

Matt's eyes widened. He cupped the side of his brother's face, trying desperately to rouse him.

"Jeffro? Jeffro, wake up! Jeff!"

* * * * * * *

**So, evil Mark had his way with poor Jeffro and then left him there for anyone to find. But I can promise this isn't over, not by a long shot. No way. New chapter will be coming soon, with new developments. Just how far will Matt go to find out who did this to Jeff? What will Mark do to conceal it? How is Jeff affected by the attack? Why am I asking these questions, when you know full well I'm not going to answer any of them just yet? FIND OUT NEXT TIME!!! : )**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Well, I have to confess, I didn't expect this thing to turn into the huge mess of a story that it has. (It was originally going to be a one-shot, but we all see what happened there.) Thanks to all who have reviewed. Souless666, he seems like he'd be open about his "tastes" (heehee), but if someone like Vince found out he was torturing Jeff all the time, his fun would come to an abrupt end. So, he has to hide it, at least to a point. No fun, I know. : (**

**As always, WWE owns all, I own nada.**

**Here we go…**

Matt gazed down on his baby brother with sad eyes. Jeff lay in the hospital bed, a study in bruises and lacerations. He hadn't opened his eyes since that brief moment on the hotel floor.

The older Hardy lightly held his brother's hand. He sighed.

"Who did this to you, Jeffro?", he whispered.

There was no reply but the steady humming of the hospital in the background.

* * * * * * *

Mark felt good. He always felt good, after playing with his favorite toy. And last night had been so much fun.

He grinned his feral grin, thinking about all of the things he'd done to Jeff Hardy.

The Deadman sat down on a bench in the crowded locker room, and began to pull his gear out of a black canvas bag.

"_Please, stop! Ah- God! Please!"_

_"So pretty when you beg…"_

_"Leave me alone!"_

_"I'm not done with you yet, you little slut!"_

He was nearly getting a hard-on, just thinking about that mewling little whore begging him to stop. He sighed contentedly, a crooked grin settling on his chiseled features.

Mark bent over his bag, and continued to empty boots, his folded coat, and spray tan onto the bench. Now where was his damn hair treatment?

Suddenly, Mark's phone went off. He swore under his breath, praying it wasn't Vince calling about yet another script change.

It wasn't.

His grin returned when he saw the caller ID. Flipping the phone open, he greeted the mysterious caller. He lowered his voice as he spoke, knowing any eavesdroppers would have to either be permanently maimed, or outright killed. This was a very important call.

"Hey", he spoke, "Long time no see." He paused, listening. Something the person on the other end said caused him to laugh, long and loud. Several heads turned, but he ignored them. He dropped his voice low again. "You want to get together and have some fun? Mmmm, I have the perfect little slut. And he's so fucking sweet when he begs…"

* * * * * * *

Jeff felt hands on his body, stroking, feeling, touching him in forbidden places. He tried to fight them, but there were so many, and he was still so weak. He twisted and jerked, attempting to wriggle out of their grasp. Always there were more than he could handle. He screamed desperately for someone, anyone, to come and help him. A hand tightly covered his mouth. Another shot down the top of his pants, and began to stroke his cock. He cried out, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn't move. He was drowning, he couldn't breathe…

Jeff let out a strangled cry, jerking awake in his hospital bed. The sheets were sweaty and half-hanging off of the bed, as a result of his thrashing during the night. He almost cried out as all of the pain came rushing back at once. He felt every lash on his back, every punch the Undertaker had inflicted. Breathless, Jeff fell back into the pillows. His eyes wildly roamed the dim-lit hospital room, searching the shadows. He saw from the digital clock by his bedside that it was 4:30 in the morning. After a moment, his gaze settled on an uncomfortable-looking, plastic-upholstered armchair sitting in the corner. Matt was asleep on the thing, his head hanging at an obscene angle, his quiet snores coming in a steady, low rhythm.

Jeff smiled, despite himself. He always snored.

His smile quickly faded. His head fell into his hands. What had Mark done to him?

The younger Hardy debated for a moment whether or not to wake his brother. He decided he needed desperately to hear his voice, a voice that wouldn't bark degrading insults, or order him to do things he didn't want to do.

Wincing as he sat up further, Jeff croaked, "Hey Matty, wake up."

His throat was raw, and it hurt to speak much above a whisper. Matt shifted, but didn't wake. Sighing tiredly, Jeff looked around. His eyes lit up when he discovered a book sitting on the table by his bed. Aiming carefully, the Enigma threw it at his brother, hitting him square on the shoulder.

"Wake up!"

Matt shot up, looking around with sleep-glazed eyes.

"What happened?!", he blurted out, wiping drool off of his chin.

Jeff gingerly sat back into the hard hospital pillows. "Sorry I woke you, Matty", he said, "I just needed someone to talk to." His voice was unsteady, and he was fidgeting nervously with the frayed strands on the edge of the blanket.

Matt's tired eyes cleared, and he moved to the chair next to the bed.

"I'm glad you did wake me, Jeffro", he said, running a hand through his brother's disheveled hair, "I wanted to be at your bedside when you woke up. I knew you'd be afraid…" He trailed off, seemingly not wanting to finish that thought.

"How do you feel?" Jeff's gaze briefly met Matt's. There was only kindness and love in those eyes.

The younger Hardy looked away. Now that he saw his healthy, well-balanced older brother sitting at his bedside, being forced to take care of him yet again, he just felt disgusting. He _had _approached Mark first, after all. This was his fault. All of it.

"I'm sorry for all of this, Matty", Jeff whispered, closing his eyes, "I really do try not to be such a royal fuck-up."

Matt stared at him, stunned. "Jeffro, this wasn't your fault", he said, speaking slowly, his eyes running over his brother's cut, swollen lips and ugly scattered bruises, "You were attacked."

The younger man swallowed, looking pained.

"Who did this to you?", Matt asked, his voice gentle but firm.

Jeff whimpered, and wrapped his arms tightly around himself, as if for protection.

"Jeffy-" Matt reached out to place a comforting hand on Jeff's shoulder. The younger Hardy flinched, as if burned.

"Don't touch me", Jeff hissed, his multicolored hair sticking to his sweat-drenched forehead. His pleading gaze met Matt's stoic mask. "I'm sorry", he whispered, his voice shaking, "I just… can't tell you."

Matt's brow furrowed, not understanding why his baby brother wouldn't talk to him. But then, he realized, he hadn't been through what Jeff had.

He could wait. Jeff would open up, eventually.

* * * * * * *

Mark walked out of the arena, bag slung over his shoulder. He breathed the cool night air. Another Smackdown!, another victory. He wondered if they would ever give him a decent opponent.

His phone rang. He was a popular guy tonight.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, it's me. Just wanted to let you know I've secured an excellent location for our little… meeting. It's out of the way, and deserted. We can make as much noise as we want."

Mark smiled, just running through the possibilities in his twisted mind.

"Great. We'll have to wait until he recovers a bit. I used him pretty hard last night."

The man on the other end didn't sound very happy. "God dammit, Mark, how long?"

The Undertaker growled. "Until he's nice and ripe for more. Trust me, it'll be worth it."

He hung up then, thinking about all he had planned for Jeff.

All of their previous meetings had been a child's game, compared to what was on its way.

* * * * * * *

**Okay, so not the most exciting chapter ever, but it set some stuff up. Just who was on the other end of Mark's phone call? Is Jeff suffering from post-traumatic stress syndrome? Am I going to change the color of Jeff's hair anytime soon? And where does Matt fit in? Dear God, people, what is going on???!!!!!! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Things are heating up in Mark World. This translates to bad news for Jeffro. So, hang on, folks. It's about to get much, much worse.**

**As always, thanks to all who review. And, once again, the WWE owns all, I own nothing.**

**(crossing fingers for luck) Here we go…**

It was three weeks after the attack, and Jeff was returning to Smackdown for the first time since. His bruises had faded, and the lacerations on his back and shoulders no longer pained him. Nonetheless, Jeff and Matt had spoken with Vince earlier in the week, and the general consensus was that the younger Hardy shouldn't risk his recovery by wrestling at the show. Jeff was not going to argue. He wasn't sure he felt up to throwing himself around the ring quite yet.

He would do a short backstage promo, the purpose of which was simply to let the fans know he would soon be returning from his short hiatus. It would be in and out.

Matt watched his brother pull on a pair of black arm socks, adjusting them to get them to lay just right. Jeff's face was as close to expressionless as it ever got, but Matt could see through the façade. He knew his brother had a long way to go before he would be able to move past what had been done to him.

"Hey Jeffro?" Matt's voice sounded very loud in the near-empty locker room.

The younger Hardy looked up from his task. "Yeah?"

"You sure you're up to this?", the older Hardy asked, his voice warm and completely non-judgmental.

"Yeah, of course I am." Jeff tilted his head inquisitively, smiling. "Don't you think I can even handle a one minute long promo?"

"Of course, I know you can. It's just that-"

Jeff took his brother by the shoulders, and met his gaze with stern green eyes. "Matty, I'll be fine."

The older Hardy smiled and nodded in reply.

"Okay. Get out there. You don't wanna be late on your first night back."

Jeff grinned widely, and walked out of the locker room with a quick glance back at his older brother.

As soon as he'd left, Matt sighed and sat down heavily onto a bench. He ran a hand through his tangle of curly black hair.

He still had no idea who had attacked Jeff. Every time he tried to bring it up, his brother said he didn't want to talk about it. Not knowing who had done this was slowly driving him insane. He couldn't sleep at night. He'd never been so worried for Jeff's welfare. He knew that if the sick freak who'd been in that hotel room with his baby brother wasn't caught soon, there would be lasting consequences.

Whether Jeff wanted to admit it, or not.

* * * * * * *

Jeff returned a half hour later, grinning from ear to ear and chatting easily with Christian.

"You know", said the young Hardy as they entered the locker room, "I think you looked much, much better with long hair. This buzz cut shit doesn't do it for me."

"Oh, well then I'll just go out and get a wig right away", replied Christian dryly, a crooked smile on his handsome face.

Matt stood. "How'd it go, Jeffro?"

"It was fine. Nothing exciting to report. You wanna get out of here?"

They said goodbye to Christian, and made their way out of the locker room.

"I think I am going to get Christian that wig", Jeff pondered aloud.

Matt gave his brother a sidelong glance, amused.

The Hardy brothers walked out into the cool night air.

* * * * * * *

The Undertaker watched Jeff and his stupid brother walk out of the locker room, a predatory grin upon his face. His eyes catalogued every movement the young Hardy made. He watched every shift of well-toned muscle beneath silky, flawless skin. He wanted to push that pretty mouth into his cock until he choked on it. He wanted to leave some bruises on that innocent porcelain face.

His dark musings were interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He didn't have to look to know who was on the other end. He abruptly flipped it open.

"Tonight is the night." Mark's voice was low and nearly animalistic. He could feel his hard-on beginning to jut out through his tight jeans.

"You saw him? He's ready?"

"Yeah", the Undertaker replied, annoyed at the incessant questions, "Go to the place. Get everything ready. I'll bring our friend."

"How long?"

"Give me one hour, two at best", he growled.

Mark hung up, his smile fixed in blissful anticipation. He looked psychotic.

Silently, he slipped out of the locker room and made his way towards his car.

* * * * * * *

Matt drove the two of them towards their hotel. Jeff stared out of the window. They were passing through a dark and windy back road in the country, one that looked like a thousand other back country roads Jeff had seen while traveling with the WWE. He sighed.

"Do you think I should take a break, Matty?" Jeff spoke suddenly. His tone was much changed from the jovial mood he'd adapted in the locker room earlier that night.

Matt was shocked by the question. He looked over at Jeff, blinking, not knowing how to respond.

"I mean", his younger brother continued, oblivious to the distress he was causing, "some of the looks I was getting tonight. People were looking at me like I shouldn't have been there. Like it was too soon, or something."

"What people?", asked Matt angrily, always ready to jump to his brother's defense.

"I don't know", Jeff muttered, "Does it matter?"

"Yeah it-"

Matt's breath was taken away by the force of an impact from behind, smashing the car's rear and pushing both he and Jeff violently forward. Thankfully, both he and his brother had been wearing seatbelts. However, they were both dazed from the shock of the impact, and Matt could feel that he broke a thumb when the airbag deployed. His head lolled over to the right. His brother lay back against the seat, knocked unconscious.

"Jeffro?", Matt's voice sounded drunken and slow even to his own ears, "Wake up." He winced in pain as he leaned over and shook Jeff, trying to wake him. "We have to get you out of here."

He heard the crunch of boots on glass coming towards the car, and figured the person that had stupidly hit him from behind was coming to help them out. A shadowy figure leaned down on the passenger side, gazing into the wrecked car.

"Everyone okay, I hope?", growled a familiar voice.

"Mark?" Matt stared at Mark, not liking the way he was looking at his brother.

"Sorry about that", said the Deadman, his eyes never leaving Jeff's face, "But I had to get you to stop."

Matt stared at him, uncomprehending.

The Undertaker continued speaking, oblivious to the older Hardy's growing unease. Mark's black eyes raked over his trapped form, glaring. "You weren't part of the plan", he growled, leaning in, "I _hate_ loose ends."

Matt swallowed nervously, not understanding what "plan" he was referring to.

"But Jeffy here wouldn't like it if I killed you. He might be even more uncooperative than usual, and we can't have that." He grinned psychotically, tilting his head slightly. "So what should I do with you?"

Matt stared at him in shock, finally letting it sink in. This twisted fuck had tortured his baby brother, right under his nose. He felt sick.

"What the fuck have you been doing to my brother, you sick shit?!", he cried suddenly, trying to move the airbag out of the way so he could kill Mark Calloway.

The Deadman reached into his pocket and pulled out a rag. He reached into another of his deep pockets, and found a small dark bottle of chloroform. The big man soaked the rag with the chemical, making sure it was well-distributed. Once he was satisfied, he moved in calm and unhurried fashion to Matt's side of the car.

"Don't fucking touch me!", Matt cried when Mark came near, "I swear to god, I'll kill you!"

Mark grabbed Matt's hair in a vise grip. The older Hardy didn't flinch. Instead, he grabbed a clump of Mark's locks in return, yanking for all he was worth. The Deadman, annoyed, narrowed his eyes, and took advantage of his greater leverage. He pulled the older Hardy's head back with a great jerk, and, once he had Matt in a vulnerable position, stuffed the cloth over his mouth, holding it tight. He struggled and jerked, but after a few tense moments, Matt's hand loosened its grip on Mark's hair, and he fell back, limp as a rag doll.

The Undertaker grinned from ear to ear. The hard part was over now.

He walked back to the other side of the car, his eyes on the prize he'd been craving so badly these last few weeks. Their last encounter had only made him hungrier for this little rainbow-haired whore. He leaned over Jeff's sleeping form, and fisted a clump of his colorful hair. With his other hand, he held the younger man's chin, opening his mouth slightly. He let his tongue outline the fine outer detail of his lips, tracing all around it. Then, he let it snake into Jeff's warm mouth, seeking out his slack tongue. He moaned. Jeff Hardy tasted so good.

As if sensing that he was being violated, Jeff began to moan, and to squirm. His face was a mask of terror, even as he was asleep.

"Come on sweetheart", said Mark, licking his lips and grinning toothily, "it's time to get you home."

* * * * * * *

His head. Oh fuck, his head felt like it was going to come off of his body. It throbbed something awful. Tentatively, he blinked open tearing eyes.

And wished to God he hadn't.

The first thing his bleary vision revealed to him was the Undertaker, standing over him, a dangerously possessive look on his face.

Jeff's eyes widened in alarm, and he let out a frightened sob. He tried to scramble backwards, away from his psychotic attacker, but his bound hands made the task difficult. He curled in on himself, shaking. Mark leaned over him.

"Hello Jeffrey", he growled, "I've missed you."

The young Hardy tried to issue a reply, but he could only manage pitiful whimpers. He shook his head in mute protest, as if telling Mark to stay away.

"I've given you time to heal", said the Deadman, glaring, "I've stayed away for weeks. I didn't have to, you know. You're nothing but a whore. You're meant to be used."

Jeff stared at the floor, absorbing the insults, used to them by now.

Mark grabbed his chin forcibly, tilting his face upwards. Jeff's green eyes slid to the floor. He couldn't bring himself to meet Mark's hungry gaze.

"You know, Jeffrey, after all I've done for you, you're going to do something for me. You see, I've brought a friend along tonight." The words were spoken with cold, cruel satisfaction. "You're going to do whatever is necessary to please him."

Jeff shuddered as he heard someone else enter the room. His gaze didn't leave the floor. He didn't want to know who it was. Oh god, what had he done to deserve this?

Slow, measured footsteps, moving closer.

"Please, Mark. Please…" He couldn't help it. He felt pathetic, but he was terrified of enduring another night of deviant tortures.

"I told you he was so sweet when he begged", Mark laughed.

Mark moved around behind Jeff, and pulled his head up by his hair, forcing him to look at the man approaching them from across the room.

His blood turned to ice. Not him, anyone but him.

Jeff had heard bad things about this freak. Sick things. And he believed everything he'd heard. Because the man standing before him was a bonafide psycho.

Raven stood, looking him up and down, licking his lips and rubbing his hard-on. A disturbing little half-smile rested on his full lips, as he continued to look Jeff over like a piece of meat on display.

"Mmm…", he said, his voice choked with lust, "Yummy."

Tears clouded Jeff's vision, and he closed his eyes in an attempt to shut it all out.

He was fucked. Royally, royally fucked.

* * * * * * *

**Jeff's in trouble. And what the hell happened to Matt? Does Raven have a little Toy Box of his own? Yikes, guys, tune in next time to find out what happens!**

**(Oh, and review, if you're bored……) ; )**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Well, here we are again. I know the Raven thing was a bit out of nowhere, but it was just one of those ideas that flies into your brain and lodges there, refusing to leave until you make use of it. Guess I was just trying to be logical: I mean, one psycho is nice, but two psychos are nicer. **

**Thanks to those of you who review this mess. And, as always, WWE owns all, and I, a lowly peasant, own not a damn thing.**

**Young children, avert your eyes…**

Matt grunted, coming awake with a start. He blinked his eyes several times to clear his vision, furrowing his brow in panicked confusion. He couldn't see anything. He tried to get up and move around, in order to get a sense of his surroundings, but he found that his hands were firmly bound behind him.

It all came rushing back. The car crash. Mark. His brother…

He let his eyes rove the pitch-black room, in hopes that they would adjust to the darkness and give him some clue as to where he was. But there was no window, and no light.

He shivered. It was really cold. He figured he must be in a basement, or some storage building or something that people didn't bother to heat. He listened, and couldn't hear anything.

"Jeff", he whispered, his voice sounding unnaturally loud in his own ears, "Are you here?"

Silence.

"Shit", he muttered.

Slowly, with all the patience he could muster, Matt began to try and work on the ropes. He prayed his baby brother was alright.

* * * * * * *

"Get on your knees, slut", Raven ordered, his deep voice full of authority.

Mark stood back slightly, watching. As Raven had done such an excellent job securing this old, abandoned farmhouse for their use, he'd decided to let him have the first go. Besides, he'd heard some crazy shit about this guy, and he wanted to see him work. The Deadman leaned back against the wall, settling in, his eyes intent on the two men in the middle of the room.

"Now!", Raven prompted, his tone no-nonsense.

Jeff stared at the strange man with huge, frightened eyes. He didn't move.

Raven didn't hesitate. He moved in swiftly, and took hold of Jeff's flaccid member over top of his baggy pants. He began to squeeze with increasing pressure. The pain was incredibly strong, and the young Hardy's eyes quickly began to tear.

"When I give you an order, slut, you will obey immediately. Do you understand me?" He gave Jeff's cock another squeeze to emphasize his point. Jeff whimpered.

"_Yes_." His voice was small, but his eyes glared hatred at Raven.

The mysterious man smiled. "Good. Then get… on… your… knees." He emphasized each word, narrowing his eyes when he saw that Jeff had not moved quickly enough for his taste. He slapped the young Hardy across the face. Jeff cried out.

"Faster, bitch!"

Jeff fell to his knees. Across the room, Mark smiled darkly.

Raven began to slowly circle his victim, running a finger lightly across the bare skin of Jeff's chest, his neck, his back. Hardy jerked every time he was touched. He stared at the floor, expressionless, wondering how he was going to survive another night of being beaten, raped, and used like a cheap whore. Another thought occurred to him then, one that frightened him even more than Raven's lascivious gaze.

"Where's my brother, Mark?", he asked softly, not looking up, "He was with me in the car. What did you do with him?"

Raven stopped his slow circuit, his caressing fingers lying like dead things on Jeff's shoulder. The strange man shared a glance with the Undertaker, who pushed off from the wall and came to stand in front of Jeff. The young Hardy forced himself to meet the big man's eyes, despite his fear.

Mark smiled. "Matt's here, Jeffro. He's right here, with us." Raven let out a high-pitched cackle, followed a moment later by the rumbling baritone laughter of the Deadman. Jeff furrowed his brow in anger and confusion, not getting the joke. All he knew was, he would tear Mark's dick off if he went anywhere near Matt.

"Listen, you twisted fucks", said Jeff, anger giving him a false bravado, "If you've done anything to hurt him-"

"You'll do what, slut?" Raven was leaning over him. The young Hardy's stormy green eyes met the eyes of his captor, who was right up in his face. He looked angry. Hell, thought Jeff, he looked fucking out of his mind. Jeff swallowed nervously. "I don't like being threatened", said Raven, his tone quiet, "especially by little whores whose sole purpose in life it is to suck my cock and like it."

He straightened, and shared a quiet look with Mark, who had moved to stand behind Jeff. The young Hardy felt his hair being roughly grabbed. The Undertaker was gripping the top of his head, holding it in place so that he couldn't turn his face to the side. He closed his eyes tightly. Oh god, oh please. Not again.

"Open your eyes, bitch. I want you to see what you'll be swallowing."

Jeff slowly opened his eyes, not wanting to look. Raven stood there, his dark pants pooling around his ankles, his erect cock pointing at Jeff's mouth. The young Hardy tried to shake his head no, but couldn't move it in either direction, thanks to the Undertaker's deathgrip.

"Stop… stop…"

Mark pushed Jeff's lips onto the head, eliciting a moan from Raven. When Hardy didn't move to take him into his mouth, however, the half-naked man slapped him on the top of his head. Jeff whimpered in pain and fear.

"Let's go, you little whore, it's time for a good mouth fuck. Open up."

Jeff knew that he had no choice. He slowly opened his mouth wide, allowing Raven to slip his dick into the tight, warm heat. The strange man immediately let out a lusty growl as Jeff began to half-heartedly move his lips up and down the shaft of his cock, guided by the Undertaker. Raven quickly decided to take the reins, grabbing Hardy's hair in one hand and holding his head as still as possible with the other. He began to thrust deeply into Jeff's mouth, forcing the terrified Enigma to swallow his thick member as best he could. His thrusts grew more harried and vicious as Raven found himself nearing his orgasm, and the thought never crossed his mind that he could be causing harm to his prisoner's throat. He didn't care. This slut would do as he was told, and like it. He cummed, shooting wave after wave of hot semen into Jeff's bruised throat. As he orgasmed, he wasn't sure what turned him on more: the sound of his dick pounding against the soft skin of Jeff's face, the sound of Mark quietly jerking off behind him as he watched the two of them, or the sound of Jeff's choked cries of pain. Looking down at his captive's sweet mouth still stretched tautly over his dick, he decided it was the latter. He'd have to choke him on his cock again later. That had been fun.

He pulled out, and the young Hardy collapsed to the dirty wooden floor, breathing hard. He was choking, and spitting out any semen he'd managed not to swallow. Raven stood over him, penis in hand.

"Open your mouth, bitch", he ordered. His tone said that he wasn't fucking around.

Jeff's eyes pleaded with him to stop, but he knew there was no way out of this. He did as he'd been told, opening wide.

Raven milked his dick for the last few drops of cum it had left. He expertly shot most of his remaining load right into Jeff's mouth, though some of it ended up in the young Hardy's hair, or dripping down his chin. Raven leaned over Jeff threateningly, speaking quietly into his ear.

"Now swallow it."

Jeff did so, though it made him sick.

"Mmmm, such a good little slut. You were right, Mark. He was definitely worth the wait."

Mark grinned. Raven's little foreplay session had gone beautifully. The man was truly an artist, and, as he saw it, what better canvas to use than Jeff fucking Hardy? Only the best or none at all, as far as he was concerned.

He looked down at the Enigma, who was lying on his side, shaking and staring fixedly at the floor. He looked like he was about to come unglued. Maybe tonight would be easier than he'd hoped.

Mark walked forward, his grace and silence belying his large size. He grabbed Jeff's arm, moving to pull him to his feet. The younger man somehow managed to find the strength to free himself from the Deadman's grip. He quickly rolled away from him, desperate and not thinking entirely rationally. Mark followed, but wasn't quite fast enough to catch him.

"Don't piss me off, Jeff", he growled, stalking towards his prisoner.

"Fuck you!", yelled the young Hardy, steadily backing away towards the door at the other end of the room, "You sick fucks!!! Stay away from me!"

Mark followed closely, a furious glare on his dark face. "Get back here now, you little slut!!"

He was almost to the door. "I'm gonna tell Vince and the police everything, you motherfucker", Jeff snarled, "And we'll see who's on their knees then, sucking cock-"

Raven tackled Jeff to the ground suddenly, eliciting a pained and desperate cry from the young Hardy. In his rage, he'd forgotten all about the other man, who had snuck up behind him. Raven straddled Jeff, putting all of his weight on the younger man's bucking, struggling upper body. He kicked, but could not reach his captor.

"God fucking dammit, let me go!", screamed Jeff.

Raven just stared down at him through a curtain of dark hair, a strange, depraved smile on his face. Jeff glared as he felt the man's very obvious hard-on rub against his chest.

They both turned as they heard Mark's footsteps approaching, slowly. He crouched down, his eyes never leaving Jeff's face.

"Raven here did a fine job breaking you in", he said, his voice quiet and ominous, "Gotta tell you, watching your sweet mouth suck cock is like nothing in the world, Jeffrey." He smiled crookedly. Jeff glared, again struggling in Raven's grip. "But there's one thing that you've never been able to grasp in that pretty head of yours, and that is that it can always, always be worse. You didn't like sucking Raven's dick? Well guess what, Jeffro? I have bad news for you."

Mark stood, looking down at his furious, and terrified, prisoner. "It is about to get much, much worse." He bent over and took Jeff's chin in hand, forcing the younger man to look at him. "Because, now, it's _my_ turn."

**Boy oh boy, **_**this **_**doesn't look good. Not at all. For those of you who love and adore Matt, he **_**will**_** have a part to play in this story, though I'm not revealing whether that part will involve being Mark's new toy, or playing Mr. Rescuer to poor Jeffro. I'm a sadistic crazy person, and I make no apologies for it. ; )**

**Review, People, Review! See ya next time.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Souless666, I am going to do my damned best to impress you in this chapter (no more crappy BJs, hee hee); Renna33, don't worry, Jeffy'll be okay… eventually.**

**Thanks for reviewing guys; keep 'em coming. As always, WWE owns all, I own not a thing.**

Jeff didn't like the look in Raven's eyes. He stood there, staring at him quietly, a half-smile painted on his odd features. As he returned the man's gaze, the young Hardy wondered uneasily what sociopathic thoughts could possibly be running through his deranged mind. Jeff looked away, finally deciding that he didn't want to know.

Besides, he had more immediate issues to deal with.

Mark had decided that he and Raven deserved a show, as they'd gone through all the trouble to plan this little party. The two of them were currently sitting in old wooden chairs they'd found in the corner, staring at him expectantly. Jeff stood in the center of the room, naked, staring back, his hands firmly blocking his privates. He knew if he didn't start doing _something_ soon, Mark was going to come over and start making his own fun.

"So what am I supposed to do?", Jeff said, unable to hide the anger in his tone.

Raven pulled Mark close to him, and whispered in his ear. When he finished whatever he'd been saying, he licked slowly down the Phenom's sensitive earlobe, drawing a shudder and a shaky grin. Mark's eyes opened then, and his dark gaze turned towards his prisoner.

"Sit down." Jeff took a seat across from them, on a filthy old couch with the stuffing hanging out in places. He bent forward and crossed his arms in an effort to cover his nudity.

Mark studied him with narrowed eyes, cocking his head slightly. "Sit back, Jeffrey, and spread those pretty legs for us."

Jeff didn't move. "Show me proof that my brother is safe, and I'll do it."

The Undertaker laughed at him, the sound ugly and cruel. "You'd better open those legs, you little whore, or I just might just drag your brother in here to join in the fun."

The young Hardy stared, desperate to keep his face impassive.

"Oh please, Marky, can we bring his brother in to join in the fun anyway?", begged Raven. The psycho was running filthy and broken fingernails up and down the Phenom's arm in clumsy patterns. He seemed fascinated by the man's bulging muscles.

Mark glared at him, though Raven didn't seem to notice. Pulling his arm away, he said gruffly, "You can fuck Matt until he bleeds. Or just play with him. I don't give a shit. In fact, why don't you? It'll mean more of this filthy little slut for me." He grinned wickedly at the thought.

He turned his attentions back to Jeff, who had watched the exchange with more than a bit of fear.

"You think I won't hand your brother over to this sick fuck?", he said, smiling widely, "I'd do it, with pleasure." Raven giggled.

Ignoring him, Mark strode across the floor, and grabbed Jeff's abused throat. The frightened Enigma could no longer find the heart to glare at him.

"Now spread your legs, like the whore you are."

He released Jeff's throat with a last, warning squeeze, and walked back to his chair. Raven was grinning like a mad clown, and Mark's openly lewd expression was hardly comforting.

Wishing he was anywhere else, knowing that he had no choice but to obey, Jeff leaned back into the hard cushions of the ancient couch. His long, pale legs began to part very slowly, until they finally afforded his captors a very open view of his flaccid cock. Mark and Raven stared, gazing at him ravenously. The young Hardy looked away, ashamed. He heard Mark rise again, and his heart began to beat faster, though he didn't move.

The Undertaker bent down, as if to if to inspect his member more closely. Before Jeff could react, he pulled out a cock ring and slipped it deftly onto the younger man's dick, tightening it with a flourish.

Jeff winced at the uncomfortable feel of the thing, and moved to adjust it.

"Touch it and I get Matt", growled Mark threateningly. Jeff quickly pulled his hand back. He watched bitterly as the Deadman resumed his seat.

"Now", instructed the Undertaker, a crooked smile on his face, "You're gonna play with yourself. And you're gonna moan, and writhe, and thrust, just like a dirty little slut. But you won't get to cum until I say you can." Jeff watched in morbid fascination as Raven licked slowly up Mark's neck. "Let's go, Jeffrey. Grab your cock."

Jeff couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was fucking degrading. But, if Mark and Raven actually had tucked Matt away somewhere, he had to. He didn't have a choice.

Closing his eyes, he tried desperately to tune out his surroundings. He slowly began to stroke himself, rubbing up and down the shaft, letting his cock slowly harden. Mark wanted him to put on a show, to play a sex-starved little bitch. If it would keep the focus on him, instead of his brother, well, he would give these fucks the show of their lives. Jeff had survived worse.

The young Hardy continued a steady pace, stroking his cock roughly. He knew Mark liked it rough, and, by the looks of things, Raven's tastes seemed to parallel his. Jeff reached down with his other hand, and began to play with his balls. He continued to masturbate his rock-hard dick. A small moan escaped his lips.

"He moans like a little whore, Marky", Raven observed.

Jeff let out a breathy whimper, just to tease the sick fuck.

He had to suppress a grimace when he noticed that both members of his little audience had whipped out their cocks, and were unabashedly jerking off as they watched him. He looked away, and tried very, very hard to concentrate on his task. He could do this, god dammit.

Jeff spontaneously decided to change position, lying down on his back. One hand continued to slowly, languorously play with his hardened member. He pushed the first two fingers of his other hand into his mouth, and began sucking on them. He let out a sluttish moan for the benefit of those watching.

Now that his fingers were moistened, he reached around back and began to push them into his asshole. He gasped and thrust his hips into the air, trying to get his fingers inside of his tight hole.

"Mmmmm…", Jeff whimpered.

He finger-fucked his asshole, roughly probing in and out. He also resumed stroking his cock, hard and fast. He felt it building, building. Soon, that god damn cock ring would have to go.

"You like us watching. You like being forced, you fucking little bitch", growled Raven, who was pumping his cock so hard it looked as if it might fall off.

"You're thinking about blowing Raven earlier, you fucking little whore, aren't you?", the Deadman's voice was slightly unsteady as he neared his climax, "Tell him! Say it!"

Jeff was putting on the performance of a lifetime. He let out a very sluttish whimper as he ran his hands up the underside of his ball sac. "Mmm, I want… Raven's cock… in my mouth…", Jeff licked his lips as he panted hard, "Need… swallow…" He trailed off.

The young Hardy was growing close to climax. He raised his hips, bucking in futile motions. He wanted to rip the cock ring off and paint the walls with his cum. It was beginning to hurt.

"Mmmm….. Ohhh godd!", he cried, "Please, Mark!"

The Undertaker and Raven had both risen, and were studying him closely, near-identical smirks on their insane faces. They looked at each other, and seemed to share the same thought. Even in his current state, Jeff didn't like the possible consequences of such an interaction.

He watched as Raven sauntered over to him. His eyes were beginning to tear from the inability to release his seed.

"Get up, bitch."

Jeff stared at him, not knowing what to think of this man ordering him around.

"NOW!"

He rose quickly to his feet.

"You want the cock ring off?", Raven asked, his ever-present grin plastered on his pale face, "Then you'll bend over for me. _Now_."

Jeff glanced at Mark, before doing as he was told. God dammit.

He was fucked, quick and hard, and it hurt like hell. When Raven did it, Jeff thought the lining of his asshole was going to fall out onto the floor in a bloody heap.

He screamed, and the more he screamed, the more the sick son of a bitch got off. Jeff resolved to try and keep quiet the next time around.

When the two of them were done, and Raven was sitting comfortably on the couch, humming to himself, and Jeff was curled in on himself on the wooden floor, shaking, Mark swept in and removed the cock ring. He held his hand under Jeff's throbbing and reddened member.

"Cum for me, slut."

Jeff stared up at him, almost incredulous, before allowing himself his release. He collapsed back onto the floor, and closed his eyes.

* * * * * * *

"So, what do you think?", Mark asked, a smirk painted on his features.

He and Raven were gazing down at Jeff, who had passed out after their previous "session". He lay, naked, curled into a protective ball. Every so often he would twitch, or grimace, as if in pain.

"Oh, he's perfect", Raven replied, grinning, his eyes running over the young Hardy's exposed form, "Just defiant enough to be fun, and, god, so, so pretty." He licked his lips.

Mark nodded thoughtfully. Suddenly, he began walking towards the door.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"Stay here and watch him", growled Mark, "You can play with him if you want, but just remember that it's _my_ toy that you're borrowing. You break, you _die._"

"Alright, but where are you going, man?"

"Relax, Raven. I'm just heading over to the storage shed."

"And what the fuck is over there?"

"A few of my more... dangerous sex toys. Oh, and brother Matty, all nice and tied up for us. Don't you think it's time he got in on the fun?"

* * * * * * *

**Oh, God. The Hardys are in deep shit now! What will happen next?!**

**Send me reviews, and I'll tell you………… ; )**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: The Undertaker obviously has something in mind for poor Matty, but Jeff's stuck in a room with Raven, alone. Who's got it worse? We're about to find out.**

**Thanks to those of you who reviewed!**

**As always, I do not own a solitary thing. It's all you, WWE.**

"Oh, Jeeeeeeefyyyyy!" The voice that called his name was singsong, and unpleasant. He felt rough hands on his skin. On instinct, Jeff rolled away from the invasive touch, and slowly opened his eyes.

The pleasant numbness that had come with being unconscious began to fade away, and all of the aches and pains from that night returned. He realized that he was on the floor, naked and cold. His ass hurt. And, his dick was hard as a rock.

He looked down at it, blinking stupidly.

"I did you a little favor." Jeff's head spun around at the voice. He tried futilely to cover his nudity when he saw Raven watching him from across the room. "I mean", continued the strange man, taking a few small steps towards his prisoner, "you were just so sweet, sleeping there. And your cock, it looked so sad, all tired and done. I thought I'd bring it back to life." He grinned, showing his yellow teeth. "It is such a pretty cock, after all."

Jeff began to scoot back, trying desperately to escape this psycho.

"Where's Mark?", he asked, his voice sounding far more pitiful than he would've liked.

"Around", Raven replied casually, as if the question were unimportant, "but not here. Right now, it's just you, and me. What can we do to entertain ourselves until he gets back?"

"Stay away from me", Jeff whispered.

Raven just laughed, and moved in to take hold of the terrified Hardy.

* * * * * * *

Matt sat back wearily on the uncomfortable wooden chair, cold and hurting from the car crash. He was sure that he'd been fighting with these ropes for hours now, and he was also sure that he hadn't budged them. He was never one to give up easily, but he was beginning to feel as if this was hopeless.

And where was Jeff? What was that sick fuck Mark Calloway doing to him right now? He wanted to kill that bastard. He wanted to rip his dick off and feed it to him for the things he'd done to his baby brother. Matt began to struggle in the ropes again. When he got out of here, he would make that fucker bleed.

He froze suddenly, stopping his frenzied thrashing. He'd heard the click of a metal lock. Matt stopped breathing. Had Jeff somehow managed to escape? Or was it something else?

The old, rusty door swung partway open. It let a blast of night chill in, as well as a tall and formidable man, backlit by moonlight.

"Hey, Matt", Mark said, "You been playing nice out here, all by your lonesome?"

"Fuck you, you psychotic asshole!", he snarled in return, pulling desperately against the ropes, "Where the fuck is my brother?"

Matt couldn't see it in the darkness, but he knew Mark was wearing a shit-eating grin. "Jeffrey? Oh, we've been having some fun with him. But he misses you. We were thinking you might join us."

Before Matt could even wonder who "we" might refer to, Mark had crossed the room in two long strides and punched him. His fists rained down so quick and so hard that Matt never knew which way they were coming from, or where they were going to strike.

It did not take long for him to pass out, blood pouring from his nose and split lip.

Mark smiled as he began to untie the older Hardy. This night just got better and better.

* * * * * * *

Raven slowly circled Jeff, smiling his wolf-like grin. He had pulled a pair of shackles and a long chain out of Mark's little bag of fun, and found a hook in the ceiling to attach them to. Jeff stood there, his arms stretched above him uncomfortably.

The young Hardy's breath hitched in his throat when he realized that his insane captor was slowly stroking the blade of a very sharp, very big knife. He continued to walk around Jeff, his wide, glazed eyes roving over every exposed detail of quivering flesh.

Jeff jumped when he felt the touch of the knife on his buttocks, lightly stroking in playful patterns. Had any pressure been added, he would have been bleeding. The young Hardy held his breath, not knowing what Raven had in store for him.

The knife lightly caressed his smooth skin, moving up around his hips, and around front to his stomach. Jeff winced when it occasionally left small cuts behind. Raven was rubbing his noticeable erection into Jeff's ass. The strange man wrapped his non-knife wielding arm around Jeff's chest, and molded his body to the frightened younger man's. He caressed smoothly, causing the chained Hardy to squirm. The metal tickled his sensitive skin.

The knife dropped, to Jeff's cock. It stopped moving. Jeff swallowed. This situation had suddenly gotten much more dangerous.

"What are you doing?", he asked, not moving for fear of cutting his own member off.

Raven nuzzled his neck. "Getting to know you better. Mark did say I could play, after all." Jeff shuddered when he felt the man sloppily kiss his cheek, then lick it.

The knife left his cock then, and began to zig-zag its way up his stomach and chest. Jeff let out a pained yell and tried to pull out of his captor's grasp when Raven sliced below one of his nipples, causing blood to flow. He froze, however, when the knife came to rest at his throat.

Suddenly, the front door swung open, and Mark walked in with Matt thrown over his shoulder, unconscious. Jeff's eyes widened in alarm.

"Don't let me interrupt", said the Deadman, stalking over to the couch with the older Hardy. He unceremoniously dumped him there, then walked over to a black duffel bag by the door and pulled a pair of handcuffs out. Roughly turning Matt onto his stomach, he handcuffed the boy's hands behind his back. Mark sat down, and roughly grabbed Matt's hair, pulling his head into his lap. He looked up at Jeff, and gave him a dark grin.

The younger Hardy leaned back against Raven, the huge knife threatening to slice open his neck. They couldn't do this. Not to Matty. He'd never been tainted by shit like this. Being fucked by Mark or Raven would destroy him. He'd never be the same again.

"Leave him alone", Jeff said in a low voice, sounding as brave as he could with a huge fucking knife to his throat, "I'll do whatever you want me to, I won't fight you anymore, just leave him alone. Please."

This last word was practically a whimper, but he had done his best under the circumstances. Mark was not going to listen anyway, he knew that.

Matt suddenly began to stir. He released a groan, and squirmed around a bit, obviously finding it disturbing on some level that he couldn't move his hands. Without warning, he gasped and opened his eyes, sitting up with violent quickness. He winced as the pain from Mark's beating returned to him full-force.

"Matty!", Jeff yelled. Raven quickly placed a hand over his mouth, his other hand still holding the knife steady at his throat.

Matt's eyes widened when he saw his brother, naked and in the grip of a knife-wielding psychopath. He tried to rise to his aid, but found himself restrained by the Undertaker. He realized he couldn't use his hands, so he leaned back and attempted to kick the larger man in the face or chest. Mark punched him again, sending him reeling. He collapsed to the arm of the couch, awake, but bleeding profusely, and dazed.

Jeff tried to scream under Raven's hand, tried to struggle against the binding chains, but he could do nothing. Tears began to leak out of his eyes.

"Aww, none of that", cooed Raven, who removed his hand from Jeff's mouth and began to wipe the tears away, "Don't cry, pretty bird."

"Fuck you!", he screamed, kicking backwards clumsily, "You're out of your fucking mind!" Raven easily dodged.

"I think it's time for some fun, don't you, little slut?", he said with glee in his tone, taking hold of Jeff's hair, and pushing the knife into his throat just enough to draw blood. The younger Hardy held his breath, his eyes wide.

Raven reached down then, and grabbed his own dick, guiding it into the younger man's abused asshole. With no preparation at all, and after the previous fucking Jeff had received earlier in the night, he was in severe pain. He felt like he was being torn apart from the inside out.

Matt came back to himself, his brother's agonized screams bringing him to sudden awareness. He looked up and saw Jeff, being fucked in the ass by Raven, a knife to his throat, tears running down his innocent face. He was yelling in pain, and the sick motherfucker was obviously getting off on it.

He tried to rise, wanting to help Jeff. He felt hands grab him from behind, pulling him back down to the couch. He grimaced, furious. Mark fucking Calloway. Filled with rage that he had never felt, Matt turned to face the man who had dared to orchestrate this perverted fuck-fest.

"Like what you see, Matty? Raven's very good at what he does."

Matt growled, and tried to use his shoulder to hit him in the face. Mark was faster, however, and he didn't have the disadvantage of having his hands cuffed behind him. He easily countered the half-cocked attack, and Matt ended up on his back, beneath the Deadman's bulk. He struggled, to no avail.

"Get the fuck off of me!"

"Oh no", purred Mark, "I've had one Hardy. Think I'll find out what it's like to sample the other."

Matt's eyes widened. His expression grew pained as he heard his brother's cries escalate in volume and intensity. Raven was obviously finishing up over there.

Mark hit Matt again, hard. Matt's eyes rolled back in his head. He passed out for several moments. When he felt consciousness return, the first thing he heard was Jeff sobbing, softly. He wanted to comfort him. He opened his eyes.

He was on the floor, and he was naked. His clothing was a torn, useless heap of fabric in the corner. Mark, also naked, straddled his hips, and was rubbing his own erection with fervor.

"Stop it!", cried Jeff desperately, his voice choked with tears, "Leave him alone!"

"Raven", sighed Mark, his eyes never leaving Matt, "Jeff is _your_ bitch for the time being. Can't you keep control of him?"

"Mmmm, gladly", replied the strange man, who dropped the knife and moved around to the front of Jeff. He slapped him across the face, hard, causing his head to fly back.

Matt screamed incoherent curses when he saw the freak abusing his brother, but he realized he had more immediate issues to deal with before he could save Jeff.

The Undertaker, after a great deal of fighting, kicking, and struggling, finally managed to get Matt onto his stomach. In one swift motion, he pulled Matt's hips up, and thrust in, eliciting a throaty scream from the older Hardy. It was music to his fucking ears. He pushed in with force, wanting to be buried to the hilt in this mouthy bitch. He was going to break Matt Hardy tonight, come hell or high water.

"You sick perverted fucks!", screamed Jeff, his green eyes blazing. He was furious that Mark was laying his disgusting hands all over his brother. His brother was sacrosanct. He would kill him and Raven for this.

Raven slapped him again. Tears rolled down his cheeks, unchecked, as Mark defiled his brother. Matt sounded like he was in a lot of pain, though he was obviously trying to hide it for Jeff's sake.

"You're almost as much of a slut as your brother, aren't you, you little bitch?", growled the Undertaker. Matt seemed unable, or unwilling, to reply to this. He was panting heavily under Mark's heavy thrusts, his black hair disheveled, his eyes tightly shut.

Raven giggled, and began casually toying with Jeff's asshole, moving one and two fingers in and out, in and out. The younger Hardy squirmed in the chains, and whimpered. God, he was worried about Matt. When was Mark going to fucking finish?

Finally, the Deadman quivered lustily, moaning a throaty, "Oh fuck!" He pulled out roughly and cummed all over Matt's reddened ass cheeks. The younger man collapsed, panting, onto the floor, somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness.

"Matty! Are you alright? Matty!", cried Jeff, struggling in the chains.

His brother wasn't moving.

Jeff looked at Mark, his face twisted into a mask of fury. "Why couldn't you have just left him alone?", he hissed, "God damn you! I will kill you for this!"

"You'll do no such thing, Jeffrey", the Deadman replied, a smirk on his dark features. He rubbed a finger across Jeff's bottom lip, causing the younger man to roughly pull his head away. Mark only smiled.

"You know, seeing you like this, all chained up, helpless, well, it really gets me going", Mark said softly, speaking in Jeff's ear, "It brings out my dark side."

Jeff shuddered. Tonight, he'd been hit with a car, raped, and tortured. He didn't see how it could get any worse. Though with Mark, terrible things were always around the bend.

The Deadman grinned, and moved to a dark corner of the room. He bent over, and picked up something which Jeff had hoped to never see again in his life.

A black suitcase, with sloppy red lettering on the front. It said "Toy Box".

Raven giggled madly, as the Undertaker moved back to stand in front of Jeff.

"You're such a naughty little bitch, Jeffrey. Now what can we do to punish you?"

* * * * * * *

**I heartily apologize for the intenseness of that chapter. I'm thinking, since I have a couple of other stories starting up, and since this one is just an unending circle of unadulterated smut (which can be just fine at times, don't get me wrong) that I'm gonna end this story in a few chapters. It started off as a one-shot, and now it's grown into this crazy monster of slash and toy boxes. **

**Anyway, despite all of that, there's still more fun to come next time, so continue to check it out, and review! **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Souless666, you're absolutely right, Mark didn't think any of the consequences through. I wanted to write him with a bit of a sociopathic nature, in that he wouldn't care about such details. Neroanne, thanks for the review, and the Toy Box came from an earlier chapter of this ridiculous story. :) Renna33, don't worry, Jeff and Matt will be just fine, eventually… ;)**

**Thanks to all who review. WWE owns all, I own not a thing.**

Jeff fell to the floor bonelessly as he was released from the chains, causing him to land hard on his side. Every inch of him ached, inside and out.

Mark stood over him, a smirk upon his lips. His dark eyes roved slowly over the young Hardy's toned musculature, and his bruised and bleeding flesh. His eyes were closed, his face drawn in fear and pain. Mark could not recall having seen a more beautiful sight.

The Deadman pushed him in the gut with his foot, forcing Jeff to roll over onto his back with a pained groan. The young Hardy blinked open glazed eyes to look up at his captor. Mark, grinning, placed his foot on Jeff's neck, effectively restricting his air flow. Hardy's eyes grew wide, and he grabbed onto the Undertaker's ankle in a panic, trying desperately to push him off. The man was immovable.

"What's wrong, Jeffrey? Hmmm?" He pushed down on the younger man's throat, increasing the pressure. Jeff let out a dry, choking noise. "When you first came to me, you said you were up for anything, remember? You said you _wanted_ to be punished. You got on your knees and begged for it, you little slut." Mark's eyes narrowed. Tears rolled down the sides of Jeff's face, pooling beneath his temples. "Now all you do is whine", growled the Deadman, "You deserve every bit of punishment you get, because you asked for it, Jeffrey. Always remember that _you_ came to _me_." The young Hardy's eyes were beginning to roll back in his head.

Across the room, Matt was waking up. He was throbbing in places he'd never thought he'd feel pain in. Groaning softly, he began to rise slowly to all fours.

"Oh, you're just on time to see the show", Raven said, jumping onto his back and bringing him back down to the floor. Matt struggled against the lunatic for a moment, before suddenly freezing. He heard soft choking sounds, coming from the other end of the room. What the hell…?

Raven grabbed his hair, pulling his head up roughly.

"Looks like Jeffrey's gonna get fucked again! Poor kid."

Matt ignored the psychotic man's taunts, and concentrated on his baby brother, who, by all appearances, was being strangled to death slowly by the Undertaker's foot.

He growled low in his throat.

"Get the fuck off of him", Matt said, his eyes boring holes into Mark's skull.

Mark laughed at the threatening tone in the older Hardy's voice. He had to admit that the kid had balls. He smiled crookedly. He might have to have another go with him later.

These Hardy brothers were too much fun.

Mark stepped off of Jeff's neck. The young Hardy rolled into a tight fetal position, and covered his face. He gulped huge breaths, coughing occasionally. The Deadman had no sympathy.

"Get up, bitch."

Across the room, Raven giggled, and continued to yank on Matt's hair. The older Hardy grunted in pain.

Knowing it would be worse for him, or perhaps for Matt, if he didn't comply, Jeff rose shakily to his feet.

"Matty, are you okay?", he asked, ignoring the lunatic on his brother's back.

"Yeah, Jeffro, I'm fine", the older Hardy answered softly, giving his brother a reassuring smile. Raven began to lick up the side of his face then, and disgust and fury peeked out from behind Matt's mask of calm strength.

Jeff looked away, not wishing to see anymore.

He felt the huge arms of the Undertaker wrap around his abused, naked form, holding him possessively. Jeff stood, taut and uncomfortable, as Mark began to play with his nipples, flicking them and twisting them painfully. He stood completely still as the man stroked his cock, making him hard against his will.

Taking the younger Hardy's shoulders in a rough grip, the Undertaker roughly guided him around so that they were facing each other.

Jeff glared at the floor, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists. "Get it the fuck over with", he rasped, his voice box not recovered from the abuse it had endured.

Mark laughed, enjoying every second of this. He bent to the open suitcase on the floor. The Deadman immediately opted for the side zipper compartment on the left, which was bulging to the point that it barely closed. He felt around for a second, before producing two small metal nipple clamps.

Mark opened one, then let it close tightly, and painfully, onto one of Jeff's tender nipples. The young Hardy whimpered.

He flicked the edge of the metal clip, causing a small tendril of pain to shoot throughout Jeff's body. The Enigma arched his back, and made a clumsy attempt to back away. Mark only trapped Jeff's slender waist, and held him prone.

"Please… don't…" The young Hardy's voice shook. He was eyeing the other nipple clamp with dread.

Mark pulled on Jeff's other nipple, twisting the hardened bud between his thumb and forefinger. "Mmmm, you beg so sweetly, little bitch."

He ran his thumb across Jeff's lips once, before pushing it into the heat of his mouth. The Enigma let out a choked whimper. Jeff's eyes began to tear as Mark's finger probed the depths of his mouth, moving the thick digit in and out, in and out.

"Leave my brother the fuck alone!", yelled Matt, struggling under Raven's weight.

Mark sighed, annoyed that his little session with Jeff had been interrupted. He'd just been getting a hard-on. He pulled his thumb roughly out of Jeff's mouth, and glared over at his partner for the night.

"I'm tired of hearing that one's mouth", he growled, "Stick something in there so he'll shut up."

Jeff reacted immediately to this, trying desperately to get away from Mark so he could help his brother. The Undertaker hit him, however, bringing him to his knees and sending him reeling.

Raven fought a hard battle with Matt, elbows and fists flying as they rolled around on the floor. The older Hardy used every trick in the book in order to try and free himself from the lunatic. In the end, however, the Deadman's strange accomplice managed to best him. Matt ended up on his back, his arms pinned at his sides by Raven's legs. The lunatic had a decidedly awful grin on his frightening face. Matt couldn't move; he was trapped.

"Jeffy, turn around. Don't watch", Matt said, trying to keep his voice steady for his poor baby brother, who looked like he might be sick at any minute.

"Oh, he's going to watch every second of this", said Mark, his voice grating and obviously angry, "Let's get on with it."

Raven pulled out his erection, and rubbed the head of it across Matt's lips and chin. The older Hardy moved his head away, disgusted.

"Open sesame", murmured Raven happily. He reached down and grabbed Matt's chin forcibly, pulling his mouth open with painful force. Glaring, Matt grit his teeth, attempting to keep his mouth shut.

"Open your mouth for me, little bird", said Raven, his voice musical.

Matt only continued to glower at his attacker, his dark eyes alight with rage. Raven, grinning widely, punched him, hard. The Hardy's head bounced against the floor, resulting in a breathless, painful haze that lasted several long, drawn out moments.

Raven, grinning his feral grin, grabbed his cock and began to position it on Matt's slack lips.

"No! Stop it!" Jeff pulled against the iron grip of the Undertaker, one arm trapped, the other reaching out in desperate futility towards his brother.

Raven turned his black eyes towards the younger Hardy as he pushed his cock into Matt's mouth. He smirked tauntingly, eliciting a furious glare from Jeff. Matt's eyes shot open as the realization that he was choking on a strange man's dick suddenly hit him.

He mumbled incoherent, angry protests around Raven's cock, renewing his struggles full-force.

"Suck me off, you little slut", laughed Raven, as he began to fuck Matt's mouth roughly, "Oh, and you can bite all you want. I like it rough." The older Hardy couldn't stifle a distressed moan as Raven continued his assault.

Mark, on the other side of the room, bent over and wrapped a hand around Jeff's bruised neck. The younger Hardy, still on his knees, looked up at the Undertaker with wide, frightened eyes, not sure what he was going to do. With surprising swiftness, the Deadman swept in and attached the other nipple clamp, eliciting a surprised yelp from the Enigma. Sneering, the Undertaker reached down between Jeff's legs and grabbed his flaccid cock, squeezing it painfully and pulling a ragged gasp from the young Hardy.

"Stay", he said in a low, threatening voice.

Miserable, trying very hard to block the sounds of his brother's rape, Jeff closed his eyes and curled in on himself. A muffled cry came from across the room, and it made him want to die. He had to get Matty out of here. Mark was right, in that this was his fault; he'd approached the psychotic Deadman first. He would rectify that mistake. This would end, one way or another, tonight.

"Spread your pretty legs, whore", ordered Mark when he returned. His fathomless eyes were cold as he appraised Jeff, as if he'd somehow heard the defiant thoughts running through the younger man's mind.

Hardy complied slowly, his eyes continually traveling back to his brother and the lunatic. He winced at the disturbing tableau.

Mark took Jeff's chin roughly, forcing him to look at him. He gazed up at the Deadman with an open, earnest expression, fraught with anger and determination to protect his brother at all costs.

"You're such a pretty little thing", mused Mark, his eyes hard on Jeff's face, "But I don't like it when I see disobedience in my bitches. And you, Jeffrey, have been trying my patience all night."

Jeff glared at him. "You're god damn right I have. And I'll continue to, as long as you keep us here."

Mark slapped him across the face, hard. Jeff's head flew back, the breath leaving his body. He chastised himself silently. He should've expected that.

Across the room, he could hear Raven climaxing. The very thought of it made him sick. Matt was making muffled noises of protest. Jeff didn't want to look. He closed his eyes, and prayed that when that sick freak was done with him, they would both turn their attentions back to him.

"Jeffrey", a soft voice, whispered in his ear. Not angry, not commanding, not frightening. This was the voice of the Mark he'd known at the beginning, before it had all gone to shit. It was the voice that had lured an unwitting Jeff in, before the Deadman had gotten possessive, and abusive. It was the voice of pure seduction.

"Come over to the couch", Mark said softly, helping the young man to rise, and leading him with a strong arm around Jeff's waist. The young Hardy, confused and a little afraid, allowed himself to be led, wondering what his captor could possibly have in store for him now.

Across the room, Raven was roughly caressing every inch of Matt's unyielding body, enjoying the feel of the taut muscles tensing beneath his smooth skin.

"Yummy", he said to himself, ignoring the acidic glare Matt shot him.

"What's he doing to my brother?", the older Hardy asked, his tone icy.

Raven smirked arrogantly, brushing a stray lock of dark hair out of Matt's face. "You know, little bird, you really shouldn't ask such stupid questions. He'll do whatever he feels like doing, because he owns your slut of a brother, and has for quite a while now. And now, he owns you as well."

This infuriated Matt, and he began to struggle anew, kicking and pushing his hips up and down in an effort to throw the man off of him. Raven, however, was immovable, and simply laughed at his attempts. Matt let out a cry of frustration, letting his head fall back to the hard wooden floor.

"Ah, don't you fret", Raven laughed, "Pleasure us, and you'll be fine. Just fine."

"Jeffrey, look at me", said Mark, a quiet smile on his face.

The young Hardy was seated on the couch, his hands crossed over his lap in a vain effort to cover at least part of his nudity. At the Undertaker's quiet command, he found himself obeying, his wide green eyes looking upwards.

Mark smiled at the younger man's immediate obeisance. When he spoke, his voice was gentle, even if his words were not. "In all of our time together, all of the times you got on your knees before me, all of the times I fucked you, you've begged for my cock more times than I can count." He paused for a moment, and gently stroked Jeff's face in the spot where he had, just minutes before, slapped it. Jeff tensed, not understanding where Mark was going with this. The Deadman sighed, and took his hand away.

"But you on your knees, begging, pleading for me to fuck you, it was never real." Jeff stared.

"Mark, what-?"

"Shut up, Jeffrey. I'm not finished." His voice had taken on its old timbre. He'd sounded angry, commanding. Jeff, brow furrowed in confusion, shut up.

The Undertaker fell to his knees in front of the young Hardy. He slowly, ever so slowly, began to push Jeff's legs apart.

"I'm going to make you beg for it", he growled, his voice rough with lust and dominance, "By the time I'm finished with you, you'll be on all fours, mewling, begging like the slut you are for my big, hard cock."

Jeff glared. "Go fuck yourself."

Mark just smirked, and grabbed the younger man around his slender waist.

Before Jeff could react, Mark took his flaccid member into his mouth, his hand wrapped tightly around its base. Jeff couldn't stop himself from arching into his grip, and letting out a deep, lusty moan. He wasn't sure he'd ever had a blowjob that was this well-executed. He'd become hard almost immediately, his cock stiffening inside the heat of the Undertaker's skilled mouth. The Deadman sucked on the shaft, moving his lips up and down, fucking him with his mouth. Mark's skilled fingers gently cupped Jeff's balls, playing with them, rolling them around. He licked every inch of his cock, coating it with his saliva, lapping up pre-cum from the tip. Jeff moaned again. He was trying so hard not to give in, but fuck, this felt good…

Jeff opened his eyes, and through the haze of pleasure, looked across the room. Raven was sitting on top of his brother, a very obvious hard-on resting on Matt's chest. Jeff scowled. He wouldn't allow his brother to be raped again.

Quickly schooling his features into a façade of wanton lust, Jeff let out a sluttish whimper, and squirmed in his seat, spreading his legs wider.

"Oh fuck, Mark", he whispered, "Mmmmmm…"

Mark glanced up at the younger man, his dark eyes full of triumph. Jeff glanced down, and saw that he was hard as a rock. _Wait for it, Jeff_, he told himself, _You don't want him to bite your dick off._

"I want your cock inside me", Jeff begged, his hips thrusting towards Mark, forcing the larger man to deep throat him. But that had been all the Deadman had needed to hear. He pulled away, and Jeff couldn't stop himself from letting out a small, frustrated whimper as a result of the loss. Mark grinned, and opened his mouth to taunt Jeff for not being able to resist his cock.

He never got a chance to say a word.

Jeff's foot connected with Mark's face, in a stunning blow that brought him to the floor.

"Son of a bitch!", yelled Raven, who began to get up off of the older Hardy. His eyes were locked on Jeff, and what he'd foolishly done to Taker.

Matt took advantage of the distraction and punched the lunatic square in the jaw, bringing him to the ground. Raven rubbed his jaw and looked over at the older Hardy.

"That was a mistake, you little bitch", he said softly.

The lunatic rose to his feet and, without warning, ran towards Matt, head down, as if he meant to head-butt him. Matt stepped quickly out of the way.

Raven ran into the wall head-first, and sank slowly to floor. He did not rise this time.

Jeff had had less luck with Mark, however. The Deadman was stunned for only a second, which was enough time for Jeff to pick up the nearest weapon he could find: the black suitcase, Mark's Toy Box. The Undertaker, infuriated, rose to his full imposing height, looking down at the shorter Hardy.

Jeff glared at him, holding the black suitcase in front of his body like a shield. His eyes flicked to the other side of the room, where his brother was fighting with Raven.

His gaze flitted over to the exit. It seemed so far away.

"I was going to make it easy on you, you little slut", said Mark venomously, "But you always have to do things the hard way, don't you?"

Jeff knew that he'd failed in his escape attempt as he studied his captor. He also knew, with a terrible certainty, that he and Matty wouldn't get another chance. Nonetheless, he clung to the suitcase of depravity as if it were his last chance at life.

Mark held out his hand.

"Hand it over."

Jeff felt so tired at that moment. He felt every cut, bruise, and tear on his body. He was tempted at that moment to simply give in, and take whatever punishment followed with the quiet stoicism that he'd shown every other time Mark had abused and raped him.

Something stirred in his gut. Not this time, he told himself. This time was different. This time, Matt was involved.

Jeff looked into Mark's face. Shifting the suitcase to a two-handed grip, Jeff swung around, and moved to strike the Undertaker square in the jaw with the unwieldy object.

The Deadman moved out of the way. When the young Hardy realized he'd missed, a look of horror crossed his face. The Undertaker swept forward quickly, and grabbed the Toy Box out of Jeff's shaking hands, throwing it to the ground behind him.

"You fucking little whore!", yelled Mark. He punched Jeff in the face, stunning him, adding to the map of cuts and swelling bruises that were already accumulating there. He grabbing the back of Jeff's neck and viciously dragging him over to the couch, ignoring his struggles.

The young Hardy tried desperately to pull away, but couldn't free himself from the man's iron grasp. Mark threw him over the arm of the couch, and without any preparation or warning, thrust into him. Jeff screamed in pain.

"You… will learn… to obey me, bitch", panted Mark, his words nearly drowned out by Jeff's sobbing cries.

Suddenly, Jeff felt him jerk spasmodically, and then the large man collapsed on top of him. He didn't move, didn't breathe. He could feel the blood seeping from his abused asshole. He could feel every injury on his body. Tears leaked down his face, seeping into the dirty couch cushions.

"Jeffro?", came the hesitant voice of his brother after a moment, "Are you alright?"

"Matty?", he nearly sobbed with relief, "Get him off of me. He's still inside of me…"

Matt helped to ease the unconscious Deadman off of Jeff.

Tears were leaking out of Jeff's bloodshot green eyes, as he stared at Mark with a slightly numb expression on his battered face. Slowly, he reached up and removed the nipple clips, one at a time, wincing as he did so.

Matt watched him, concern evident on his face.

"Jeffro?", he said softly.

The younger man, whose tear-filled eyes hadn't moved from Mark's unconscious face, jumped a little when Matt said his name. His gaze shifted to take in his brother.

Matt was holding the Toy Box, the corner of which was matted with a bit of hair and blood.

"We've gotta find some clothes, and we've gotta get the hell out of here, baby bro. Who knows how long they'll be out?"

Jeff nodded slowly. When Matt started moving, so did he.

Five minutes later, they'd dressed in Raven's and Mark's clothes, and slipped out of the front door.

Twenty minutes later, Mark woke up.

He didn't even have to look to know the Hardys had escaped. His gut clenched in anger at the thought of losing Jeff. And after all the preparation that had gone into tonight…

Growling, he moved across the room in three long strides and kicked the sleeping Raven square in his gut. He coughed, spluttering, as he opened his eyes and sat up.

"Get up, you worthless bag of shit", growled Mark, "They escaped."

Raven waved it off. "So what? We had our fun. Let them wander in the woods for days."

Mark grabbed him by the neck, dragging the strange man to his feet. "Jeff belongs to me", the Undertaker snarled, "His disobedience will be punished, god dammit!"

Raven glowered, resigning himself to a night of trampling through a cold and wet forest. "Let's go, then", he said, moving towards the door, "I have a suitcase in my truck with some spare clothing in it."

Mark grinned, and followed. That little bitch would pay.

Let the chase begin.

**The Hardys just squeaked out of that one, eh? Lucky boys. But it's not over quite yet. They have to find their way through the woods, to civilization, with Mark and Raven on their tails. And Mark is piiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiised off!!!!!! Not a happy scenario for our handsome heroes.**

**Check in next time to find out if they find a town, if they keep their sanity, and if they survive! Oh boy, this is getting good! :)**

**(Oh yeah, and review, if you feel like it.) **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Souless666, I really dig your interpretation of the Mark/Jeff relationship; in my mind though, Jeff is just his favorite toy, and he's very, VERY possessive; Neroanne, much obliged, and whether the boys are screwed or not remains to be seen (read on! Hee hee); Renna33, I knew you would be happy they got out ;) ; Onions, sorry, but I don't do bodily functions. :) ExtremeDiva18, don't worry, more is on the way. :)**

**Thanks to all who review!!**

**WWE owns everyone, I am poor and sad and own nothing. :(**

Jeff and Matt moved silently through the thick forest underbrush, trying to pick their way in the shifting shadows of very early morning. They moved cautiously, as they knew that tripping over a stray root and twisting an ankle would definitely not improve their situation. Still, they pushed their pain-wracked bodies to the limits, knowing that Mark and Raven were likely just minutes behind them.

Neither of them had any idea where they were. Matt recalled something his father had told him when he was a kid, about following the current of a river to civilization. There was a stream, just inside the treeline. Not knowing what else to do, the older Hardy guided Jeff towards that, praying it would lead them somewhere safe.

They'd been walking now for about a half hour, and Jeff still hadn't spoken. Matt couldn't see his face in the darkness, only his profile, stark against the black background.

"Jeffro?", Matt whispered.

He saw him flinch at the sound of his voice.

"I just need to know that you're alright", the older Hardy said softly.

He heard his younger brother let out a quiet breath, as if he'd been holding it the whole time. "I'll be okay", he replied, "I've been through this before, remember?"

Matt stopped walking for a moment, and Jeff followed suit.

"Jeffro, don't lie to me." His voice was gentle, and full of concern.

He placed a firm hand on his brother's quaking shoulder, causing Jeff to flinch back as if he'd been scalded with a hot iron. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Finally, Jeff broke the silence, his tone soft and hesitant. "I… I'm pretty scared. He does that to me." He took Matt's hand, squeezing it in reassurance. "But I'll be okay."

The young Hardy began to move off, trusting that his brother would understand his wish to drop the matter. A few moments later, Matt followed, resolving to keep a watchful eye on Jeff.

Suddenly, both of them tensed, stopping short. Had that been a branch breaking in the forest behind them?

"Oh fuck", Jeff breathed. He turned a wild-eyed gaze to Matt, who was carefully schooling his features into an emotionless façade. He would hide his fear. He couldn't let Jeff see it, or his brother just may lose all hope of getting out of here.

"This way", Matt whispered, gesturing.

He began to move quickly forward, knowing that his brother wouldn't be far behind.

Another crack of a branch resounded through the woods. Something was moving in this direction, moving quietly and swiftly. It chilled Matt's blood to think that he was being tracked like an animal at this moment.

"Hurry", Matt urged, veering away from the river and making his way deeper into the woods. He knew it would most likely get them lost. However, growing up in the woods of North Carolina, their father had ensured that they both learned basic survival skills. Matt was fairly certain that they were well-versed enough in the subject to, with some luck, hide in these trees for several days on end. He knew they would find a way, come hell or high water, to get the fuck out of this forest.

The young Hardy followed his brother without a thought, knowing that Matt was excellent at this ranger shit. He trusted him to get them out of this safely. He was exhausted, and every inch of him hurt. He hated that he was currently swathed in Mark's too-big shirt, jeans, and leather jacket. They smelled of him. It brought back bad memories.

Shaking his head, Jeff told himself to stop it. He silently chastised himself. Imagine what Matty must be feeling right now, this being the first time he was ever raped. Jeff glanced over at his older brother. He seemed fine. Same old strong Matt. But when this was all over, and he had time to think about what Mark and Raven did to him, oh god, Jeff was scared shitless about how he would react. God damn them for touching him. He needed his brother's strength, especially now.

Another branch snapped, causing some animals to stir in the forest around them.

Jeff increased his pace. They needed to outrun those sick fucks. They couldn't be caught again.

"They're following us", whispered Matt, panic beginning to touch his calm voice, "That came from almost right behind us."

Jeff grabbed his brother's hand and squeezed it in reassuring fashion, holding onto it as they moved swiftly through the dew-covered underbrush.

"We'll be alright, Matty", he whispered.

The older Hardy nodded hesitantly, squeezing back, and releasing Jeff's hand.

A moment later, they froze and ducked down behind a tree.

The voices of their pursuers were echoing throughout the lightening forest, arguing heatedly.

And they were coming this way.

* * * * * * *

"Are you sure you know where you're going?", growled Mark for the tenth time.

Raven glared at him. "For fuck's sake, yes. Now shut up."

They had been walking for over half an hour, with no sight of the escaped brothers, and Mark was growing impatient. It was true that he had very little sense of direction in this place, but he doubted very much that the sanity-challenged man to his left did either. When Raven had said he knew how to track, the Deadman had allowed him to take the lead, simply because he knew they would be wandering forever if he himself tried to.

Mark was rapidly beginning to regret his decision, however.

The strange man bent over, feeling the ground in the semi-darkness and smelling the dirt. Mark rolled his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?", he muttered.

Raven stood slowly, and glared at the dark man at his side.

"Are you questioning my tracking skills?", he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yes, you asshole!"

His wide eyes never leaving Mark's stormy face, Raven pointed. "This way, Marky. Can't be long, now."

Roughly shouldering his way past the odd man, the Undertaker walked in the direction his comrade had indicated.

He was going to kill Raven if they didn't find the Hardys soon.

He stopped dead suddenly, listening. There had been a loud shuffling, right in front of them. Raven walked up beside him, and had his head cocked to one side like a dog. Listening, listening. The noise did not repeat itself.

Mark looked over at Raven, who returned his gaze. He put his finger to his lips, in a gesture of silence. Raven was giggling softly, and trying desperately to quash it by placing a hand over his mouth.

Turning an intense gaze back to the underbrush, Mark scanned the trees and shrubs directly in front of them. Nothing moved. Perhaps, he told himself, it had just been an animal. He shook his head, a crooked smile on his face. If those little bitches were here, he was going smoke them out.

"Raven", he said suddenly, speaking in an unnaturally loud voice, "You have to tell me. Which Hardy did you prefer?" His intense gaze roamed the shadowy forest as he spoke, looking for any movement. "Did Matt or Jeff give you the better blowjob? See, I would think Jeff, since I taught him how to suck cock myself."

"Ohhh, mmmm", Raven moaned just thinking of the memory, "Little Jeffy was delicious. I could fuck that pretty mouth of his forever. But Matt", he paused, sighing, "Oh, Matt, he choked so beautifully on my thick cock. Such a sweet little bitch he was. Can't I just pick them both?"

"I suppose. They are fucking delectable little sluts, aren't they?", said Mark, smirking.

"Well, what about you?", asked Raven, "You had Matt for the first time tonight, right? Oh, the very thought of virgin ass makes my dick so hard. Did you like fucking him more than Jeff?"

"Never", he growled in return, "Matt just did not measure up to my high standards. You see, Jeff's tight little ass _belongs_ to me. That pretty slut has learned how to pleasure me, against his will or not. I've learned how to break him each and every time we fuck. He always falls to his knees for me, eventually. My pretty little whore."

"Matt, no!" A cry issued from behind the huge tree directly in Mark and Raven's path. The pair came to an abrupt stop when they saw the older Hardy brother run out from behind its massive trunk, his face a mask of unchecked rage. Jeff followed him, his frightened green eyes darting between Matt and his former captors.

"Why, hello, Matthew", said Raven. The psychopath licked his lips as he looked him over.

Matt said nothing. He stepped in front of Jeff, gaze firmly locked on men he had, before tonight, considered to be trusted acquaintances and co-workers. Now, he wanted nothing more than to see them dead. They had committed the cardinal sin in his eyes. They had hurt his baby brother, and, worse, they felt no remorse for doing it. In fact, if they had things their way, they would be breaking him again, very soon.

Not if he could help it.

Mark stood there, smirking in the early morning light. "Something wrong, Matty? Didn't like watching us fuck your brother?"

Behind Matt's back, Jeff let out an involuntary whimper. He was shaking, and scared out of his god damn mind.

Mark's eyes narrowed. "I see you back there, you little slut! I know you loved it when I fucked you tonight. You just wait until I get my hands on your pretty little ass again! You're gonna be punished for running from me, you little whore. I can't _wait_ to get started."

Jeff's eyes were screwed tightly shut as the Undertaker told him what he what he would have to endure, now that they'd been caught. A tear slid down his pale and bruised cheek.

"You will not come near him", said Matt softly. His tone was calm as he appraised the men opposite.

Mark and Raven wore near-identical grins at his declaration. The Undertaker took a step towards the older Hardy. Matt didn't move, though he heard Jeff step back instinctually.

"Your bitch of a brother tried to defy me for a while, you know", he said, a predatory smile on his dark features, "He learned to obey. You will too, slut. Or you'll pay for it, in blood and tears. Just like that little whore did." He turned his gaze to Jeff for a moment, before looking back to Matt. The older Hardy was unmoved.

He looked at Mark, his brown eyes intense. "You're going to let us go. _Now_. Because if you do, maybe, just _maybe_, we _won't_ go to the police and spill everything that you've done to us tonight. Kidnapping, rape, vehicular assault. Fuck, Mark, you and this psychotic freak over here will be in a world of shit when we manage to get out of here. If I were you, I would start kissing ass, and now."

Mark said nothing, his hooded eyes revealing not a thing about his reaction to Matt's words. Raven, who had been so jovial, now just looked angry. Behind the older Hardy's shoulder, Jeff's eyes were wide on his brother.

"Listen, you little bitch-", Raven began, his face taut with fury. He started forward, but was quickly restrained by Mark.

When the Deadman spoke, his gaze slid back and forth between Matt and Jeff. "There is only one way you are getting out of here. There is only one way you will manage to make it to any place of authority, to report what happened here. And that is over my cold, stinking, dead carcass." Raven giggled as the Undertaker met stares with the older Hardy.

Matt's eyes were cold, and dark. As dark as the Deadman's.

Jeff looked between the two, and felt that something very, very bad was about to happen. He walked forward tentatively, suffering the lascivious gazes of Mark and Raven, trying desperately to ignore them. He put his hand on Matt's shoulder, and found it roughly shrugged off.

Mark licked his lips as he watched the brothers. He beckoned with his finger, his eyes on Matt.

"You want out of here?", he said, his hands curling into intimidating fists, "Come and get me, Hardy."

* * * * * * *

**Okay, so that was a fairly short chapter, as chapters go, but I was compelled to leave it on a cliffhanger. Not much of a cliffhanger, I know. But I do what I can. Anyway, this crazy little mess I call a story is drawing to a close. A couple of chapters left. What the hell is going to happen to our boys?! Read to find out. I don't want to beg for reviews. But PLEASE, for the love of God, send reviews my way! They validate me as a human being. ;)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Souless666, it's true that both Mark and Raven have dug themselves deep, and I did have a feeling that you'd be worried about Mark's welfare; the action is culminating, so keep reading to find out what happens!; Renna33, it's true, Matt is an idiot, but a well-meaning one; Neroanne, I love writing Mark as a complete ass; it's total fun!; ExtremeDiva18, glad you're eager for more!; slashdlite, I'm as interested to see what happens to the Hardys as you are! :)**

**Thank you to all who reviewed!**

**As always, McMahon owns everyone, and I own no one.**

Matt stared at the Undertaker in the early morning light. The tall man had a cocky smirk on his face, and an easy, calm stance, one that the older Hardy had seen him adopt countless times in the ring.

"Come and get me, Hardy", the smug fuck said.

Matt took a halting step forward, every muscle in his body tensed.

"Matt, let's just run", Jeff pleaded brokenly, grabbing onto his brother's upper arm and attempting to yank him in the opposite direction. He pulled roughly out of the smaller man's grip.

"No", he snarled, his eyes never leaving Mark's grinning face, "He's never going to touch you again, Jeff. He has to pay for what he did to you!"

"I'm going to enjoy making you my bitch, Hardy", Mark growled, stormy dark eyes raking Matt's face, "You'll take some breaking in, but we'll find time for that. And while I'm occupied with you, Raven can play with Jeffrey." His eyes flashed to the younger Hardy, who couldn't stop himself from averting his gaze fearfully. "We wouldn't want your little whore of brother to be lonely, after all."

Matt felt rage percolate in his gut, frothing up until he could no longer control it. Crying out, he sprang forward, fists punching wildly. With all the deadly calmness of an experienced street fighter, Mark side-stepped Matt's clumsy, anger-fueled punches. He countered by striking Hardy a fierce blow to the face, sending him reeling for a moment. Relentlessly, the Deadman moved in for the kill, continuing his assault. He gave Matt a shot to the gut, another to the ribs. When the older Hardy made use of the pure adrenaline rushing through his body and punched Mark across the face, it only made the Deadman angrier. Cursing, Mark hit Matt again, and again. Eyes closing, he slid limply down to the ground.

"Matt!", screamed Jeff desperately, his eyes wide with fear as he gazed at the bloodied face of his brother.

The young Hardy ran towards Matt, but was restrained by the Undertaker, who grabbed him forcefully around his slender waist. Jeff was paralyzed with fear as the huge man threw him roughly against a gigantic tree, and wrapped a thick hand around his already-bruised throat. The other hand molested his sore body, tracing up his hips, sides, stomach, stopping to twist a nipple. Jeff whimpered in pain.

"What's wrong, slut, you sad because your little escape didn't work out?", snarled Mark, his hot breath ghosting over Jeff's tear-stained cheek, "I guess I'm gonna have to keep a tighter rein on you from now on. You _and_ your brother, that is." He grinned.

"I'm used to you raping me, you sick fuck, but don't you dare _touch_ Matt", Jeff rasped, trying desperately to put enough anger into the words so that his captor would listen.

"Oh, so you still have some fight in you, even after all this", Mark said, leaning in. "We'll have to take care of that, Jeffrey."

Without warning, he slapped the younger Hardy across the face, causing Jeff's head to fly back with the force of the blow. Jeff's pale skin bore the mark of the Undertaker's hand, red blotches immediately appearing on his cheek. He watched the older man with large green eyes, fear written plainly on his finely-chiseled features. Mark was strangely expressionless as he softly ran the back of his hand down Jeff's afflicted cheek, ignoring the flinch he received in return.

"Please just let us go", Jeff said softly, his voice shaking. A tear escaped from his eye and ran its course down his face. Mark swept the offending teardrop away.

"You belong to me", Mark said, taking both sides of Jeff's face in a tight possessive grip, "You are mine. There is no leaving. And I wouldn't give two shits about letting your brother go, except for the fact that I know he'd go to the police. So, he will stay here with us, and be Raven's little toy."

"Mark, please-"

"Shut up, bitch!", he growled, slapping Jeff again. He grabbed the back of Hardy's colorful head and shoved his tongue down the smaller man's throat before he had a chance to recover his senses. Jeff whimpered fearfully as Mark's tongue continued to invade his mouth, not wanting to move a muscle in case it would somehow provoke the Deadman to go further.

Suddenly, the sound of Raven's voice echoed through the peaceful forest clearing.

"Oooohhh, take a look at that, a warm hole that's just begging to be filled with my cock!", the psycho jabbered insanely. When he heard him, Mark reluctantly pulled away from Jeff, who was frozen with fear.

"You can't fuck him out here, asshole!", seethed the Deadman, who noticed that the older Hardy brother was just beginning to stir.

Raven appeared insulted. "And why the fuck not? You looked like you were just about to fuck your little whore over there. Why can't I have some fun?" He sounded like a petulant child whining about its toy being taken away.

Mark appeared to be almost at the end of his patience with the psychotic man. "It's light out now", he explained slowly, "If we're gonna keep them, we have to stay indoors. We've gotta keep them hidden, not be having outdoor fuck-fests in the middle of the god damn woods! Now pick him up if he can't walk, and let's get moving."

Jeff, his arm held tightly in the grip of the Undertaker, watched the whole display with interest. These two did not get along, at all. Maybe he could somehow use that to his advantage. He glanced over at Mark. The older man caught Jeff looking at him, and tightened his grip further. The young Hardy gasped in pain.

"We're going back to the house now", said Mark, "And you will keep your eyes on the ground, and your mouth shut. Otherwise, little slut, you'll be punished so badly that you won't be physically _capable_ of escape next time." Jeff let his frightened gaze fall to the ground as they started walking. Mark never relinquished his grip on the younger man's arm.

"Of course", Mark continued in a conversational tone, "that's not to say that I'm not going to punish you anyway. You shouldn't have run."

Jeff shivered. He was in deep, deep shit now, unless he could find a way out of this before they reached the house.

His eyes, still on the ground, subtly moved to Matt, who was being manhandled by Raven. His brother was obviously still groggy, as he was swaying a bit on his feet. Uncaring, the Deadman's psychotic sidekick began to push him forward. The older Hardy was obviously struggling to stay on his feet, as he stumbled drunkenly forward.

Jeff jumped when he suddenly heard Mark's voice in his ear, soft and threatening.

"Get moving, or I will tear your bitch of a brother apart, piece by piece. You even think about fucking with me again, boy, and I'll absolutely see to it that Matthew over there dies a very, very slow and painful death. I'll have fun dismembering him right in front of you."

The young Hardy struggled to keep his face impassive through Mark's rant. In reality, he wanted to scream in pure, cathartic, rage. There was, however, nothing he could do. He had tried to escape, and failed. He had to face the harsh fact that he and Matt may not be getting out of here. Mark had proved, yet again, that he was simply too strong for him to overcome.

Jeff was pulled along, back towards the despised farmhouse. He looked over at his brother, who was stumbling along, and appeared barely coherent. When he slowed up too much for Raven's liking, the psycho would push him forward with such force that he'd nearly fall to his knees. But Matty was strong. He wouldn't fall.

They walked for a while like that, in silence.

"What do you intend to do when the patrols come looking for us?", Matt dared to ask suddenly, "Our car is wrecked on the side of the road. They'll run the plates. They'll find us, eventually."

"Eventually won't be soon enough for you", Mark growled cryptically.

The brothers looked at each other with fear in their eyes.

They were approaching the treeline. The house lay just beyond it.

"Move it", giggled Raven, pushing Matt forward, "I'm horny."

Mark slapped the back of Jeff's head, urging him ahead.

The two psychopaths were growing visibly eager now that their lair was in sight.

They moved past the line of trees, and into the small field that separated the forest from the house. They clumsily tramped through tall grasses, so high and thick that their feet were obscured. This property had obviously been deserted for a long time, and no one had bothered with the upkeep of the land. Perfect for a double kidnapping and rape, thought Jeff bitterly. He winced. Mark's fingers were digging into his arm with such strength that he was losing circulation in his fingers.

The young Hardy glanced over at Matt. His brother had adopted a stoic expression as he was driven forward by his insane captor. His face did not reveal the pain and anger he must be experiencing.

But Jeff knew.

They reached the farmhouse. Both Hardys were roughly pushed inside, causing the beaten and exhausted pair to land heavily on the filthy wooden floor. Mark and Raven entered immediately after them, backlit by bright morning sunlight. The Deadman, glaring at Jeff, slammed the door.

Matt scooted over in front of his younger brother, his dark eyes narrowed, his fists clenched protectively.

"I believe those are my clothes", said Mark, pointing to Jeff, his rough voice full of anger and lust, "Hand them over."

Jeff shook his head mutely, his bloodshot eyes huge on his pale face. He was terrified at the thought of being used again by the Deadman.

"Leave him alone", snarled Matt. The older Hardy stood up, looking between Mark and Raven darkly.

"C'mon, Hardy, this is getting boring", replied Raven, his large eyes roaming Matt's form. He pulled a very large knife out of his back pocket, the same knife he'd used earlier to molest Jeff with. "Why don't you come with me over here, like a good little flower, and we'll have some fun?" His eyes never leaving Hardy's face, he began to suck and lick the blade of the knife, as if he were sucking cock. Matt had no idea how he wasn't bleeding all over the place.

Dark thoughts suddenly entered the older Hardy's head. Terrible thoughts. He welcomed them home.

He looked over at the grinning bastard who'd raped him hours earlier, and the sociopathic prick who he answered to standing next to him. Would the world really miss them?

He looked away, knowing he'd have to play this just right.

"If I, um, agree to, um, have some fun with you", Matt made sure to sound exceedingly uncomfortable, "then, will you leave Jeff alone?"

Jeff's head shot up. "Matt, no!", he said, his tone desperate.

Raven's smile was nothing less than a triumphant sneer. "Of course, little bird. Of course."

Matt allowed himself to be led away, throwing Jeff a reassuring smile, knowing it would mean nothing. He hated to add to Jeff's pain.

In the end, though, it would all be worth it.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as Mark moved in on his brother, telling him to get on his knees, to beg for forgiveness.

He was forced to give all of his attention to Raven, however, when the psychopath grabbed a clump of his long curly hair and fisted it tightly. Matt forced himself to stare straight ahead as Raven began biting and sucking on his neck, moaning low in his throat.

"Take them off, bitch", he ordered, the knife resting securely at his throat. He released Matt's hair so that he could get undressed. Steeling himself, the older Hardy told himself that this was necessary. He heard terrified whimpers coming from Jeff's side of the room. He had to get him out of here.

Calmly he undressed, and with each new piece of flesh he exposed, Raven seemed to grow more and more excited. Suddenly, the psychopath snarled fiercely and moved forward, pushing Matt into the wall, causing him to cry out in alarm. Ripping the pants down Hardy's legs, the older man immediately took Matt's flaccid cock into his mouth, causing him to arch his back in unwanted pleasure. He could feel himself stiffening against his will in the tight heat of his captor's mouth.

"Oh fuck…", moaned Matt quietly.

The man was deep throating him now, taking his cock in and gagging on it. The older Hardy couldn't stop himself from squirming and bucking, trying to mouth-fuck Raven as he had mouth-fucked him. Despite the fact that he was on his knees with cock in his mouth, it seemed that the psycho remained in charge of the situation, however.

When he began using his tongue, Matt nearly collapsed to the floor in a sad heap. Sucking, and licking, and swallowing.

With a cry, Matt spat cum all over Raven's waiting lips, tongue, and chin.

"Holy shit!", the older Hardy panted, leaning back against the wall bonelessly.

Rising to his feet, Raven smiled crookedly, wiping his mouth off with his sleeve.

"Liked that, did you?", he said, raising an eyebrow.

Matt didn't answer. His gaze kept flitting over to his brother, and that fucker Mark. Currently, the sick fucker was making Jeff pick through that black suitcase of his. It took Matt a moment to realize what was actually happening.

He was forcing Jeff to choose his punishment himself.

"Not that one", growled Mark, his voice filled with barely-concealed rage as he slapped Jeff on the back of his head, "It's not _nearly_ painful enough. You know that, you little shit. Now pick a good one."

His baby brother was on his knees, naked, tears falling freely down his face. Matt wanted to cry himself, seeing Jeff like that.

His attention was suddenly and forcibly brought back to his own situation, however, when he felt cold steel pressing into the soft skin of his neck. Matt's gaze turned to Raven, whose wide, angry eyes were boring holes into him.

"Your attention is _here_, understand?", said the lunatic, "What Mark does with his toy is none of your concern. Jeffrey belongs to him. You belong to me." He emphasized the point by pushing the knife in harder. "_Yes_?"

Matt carefully nodded. He watched as the knife was slowly withdrawn from his throat. The lunatic stashed the blade in the back of his pants.

Across the room, sounds of a whip across bare skin began. Jeff's screams were loud, and gut-wrenching.

"Fucking… little…whore!!!", cried Mark, his black eyes trained on the naked, huddled man on the floor, a long whip in his right hand. With every word, he lashed Jeff's back.

Raven giggled, turning to watch the bloodshed for a moment. It was all Matt needed. He lunged forward and pulled the knife out of the back of the psychotic man's pants. In one swift and deadly movement, aided by fury and desperation, he stabbed down, into Raven's neck. The knife was deep, almost to the hilt.

Choking on his own blood, Raven fell limply to the floor. His eyes were filled with pain and disbelief.

"What the fuck!", cried Mark, staring at the body of his dying comrade, "What did you do, you little fucker?!"

Raven was still. His dark eyes were dim and unmoving, like glass eyes in a taxidermist's shop. Dead eyes.

Matt stood, steadily brandishing the knife at Mark. "You're next, asshole."

Matt turned his attention to his younger brother. "You alright, Jeffro?", he asked gently. He beckoned for Jeff to come and get behind him.

"Oh no you don't, slut!", growled Mark, fury in his voice. He turned to block the way. Jeff fell back.

"Just leave me alone!", he begged, unable to take anymore.

Mark stood over him, a dark and hungry shadow. He picked him up by the throat and punched him across the face. The young Hardy cried out in pain, blood seeping from a cut and swollen lip.

Jeff began to choke, making desperate attempts to take in air, and failing. Mark's grip continued to strengthen around the smaller man's slender throat. Jeff's hands clawed and scratched at the Undertaker's huge hand, to no avail.

Jeff saw Mark violently tense suddenly, as if an electric shock had been sent through his musculature. The young Hardy didn't understand what was happening, or why, but he knew anger in Mark's eyes when he saw it, and he was looking into it, now. Jeff redoubled his efforts to get away, knowing that the Undertaker was most dangerous when he was in this mood. And then, without warning, his neck was released. The younger man fell heavily onto his back, and began scooting away on his elbows.

Jeff froze. That was when he realized. That was when he saw it.

Mark Calloway had a knife in his back. He'd fallen to his knees, a stunned and angry expression on his strong face. Even now, Jeff realized, he looked intimidating. His gaze never left Jeff's face, not even after he'd lost so much blood that he collapsed onto his side.

Stunned, Jeff slowly pulled himself to his feet, his eyes never leaving Mark's bloody form. He thought he would be elated once he'd managed to free himself from Mark Calloway, but he felt absolutely nothing. Numbness seemed to invade his entire being, dousing him inside and out like room-temperature water.

Maybe it was better that way, at least for now.

"Enjoy hell, you piece of shit", he said softly, his voice hard.

Jeff tore his eyes away from the pathetic man dying on the floor, and turned his attention to his brother. Matt was sitting on the shitty couch, his head in his hands. Jeff took a seat next to him.

"What did I do?", Matt asked, his voice trembling. Jeff realized, uncomfortably, that his big brother was crying. The smaller man put his arms around Matt, squeezing tightly.

"You did what had to be done so that we could leave here in one piece", said Jeff softly.

Matt rested his head on top of his younger brother's, taking comfort in the fact that they were both alive, and, for the most part, unscathed.

In a few minutes, they would find one of their captors' cell phones, and call the authorities.

But for now, they would rest, and try their best to forget.

* * * * * * *

**There's only one chapter to go, and that's an epilogue of sorts, involving Jeffro and Mark! Review if ya feel like it! **


	13. Epilogue

**A/N: Souless666, I was actually cringing when I was writing the Matt-stabs-Mark part, because I knew you would be upset; I'm not sure this chapter will ease your pain, however ;). Renna33, just as I knew Souless666 would be upset, I knew you would be friggin' thrilled, so Merry X-mas, early. ;) Neroanne, don't be sad, there are always kick-ass stories around the corner. Onions, please don't pour vodka in your eyes, you'll go blind, and I don't want liability. **

**Thanks to all who review! You guys rule.**

**WWE owns everything, and I don't have anything but lint and a nickel in my wallet.**

Ten Years Later:

Jeff walked purposely down the long, gray hallway, escorted by a prison guard. He'd only been here for ten minutes, and already he hated this place. He couldn't imagine spending ten years behind these walls.

Once again, for the thousandth time, he asked himself why he was here. His wife, Beth, had begged him not to come. She'd said he should just let the past rest. But, much as he loved her, she could never understand.

"This is it", the matter-of-fact words of the officer suddenly pulled Jeff from his anxious reverie.

Jeff took a deep breath. There, through a small doorway, was the room where inmates received visitors. An array of clear plastic panes separated some scattered prisoners from the people who'd come to see them. They were having conversations via the telephones mounted on the walls at each individual station.

"You can sit here", said the officer briskly, motioning to a seat towards the end of the row, "They'll be bringing him out in a moment. You'll have 15 minutes."

At that, he turned on his heel and walked out, heels clicking on the hard tile floor.

Jeff took a deep breath. He knew he could do this.

The huge steel door on the other side of the glass swung open suddenly, making Hardy jump. Mark Calloway stormed into the visitor's pen, escorted by three guards, apparently furious that he was being forced to come here.

"Fuck you, assholes!", he cried, "I don't care what you said! There ain't _nobody_ who would visit my ass in here!"

He froze when he saw Jeff, his jaw going slack.

"Well, for once big bad Mark ain't got nothing to say", taunted one of the guards. They pushed him over to the chair and forced him to sit. He didn't fight them. His gaze was intent on Jeff.

Hardy studied him in turn, making a concerted effort to keep his face completely devoid of emotion. Mark had a wild look about him, an animalistic fury that any sane man would know to immediately avoid. The Deadman was leaner than he'd been as a wrestler, but well-toned, for his age. Jeff reflected that he certainly had plenty of time to work out in here. He'd gained several new tattoos as well. Mark's hair, which had once been long, dark, and thick, was now cut short, and shot through with gray.

As Jeff gazed at him, he realized that time had caught up with the Undertaker. It made him feel sad, somehow.

Jeff picked up his phone, and Mark slowly did the same, wondering if this was some fucked up test perpetuated by the prison guards.

"You look good, Hardy." Mark couldn't take his eyes off of Jeff. The kid had barely aged a day, despite the fact that ten years had passed since they threw him in this fucking pit. The Deadman smirked as he looked at Jeff's bluish tresses. He was still dying his hair. At least some things never changed.

"Thanks." Jeff shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, I'm here because I need to talk-"

"Congratulations, Jeff." Undertaker's interruption was quiet, but it stopped Hardy dead.

"What?"

"I never got to congratulate you when you won your second WWE championship belt. Or the third. Or the fourth. Or the fifth. Or any of them, come to think of it. So I'm congratulating you now."

"Mark-", Jeff began, his tone dark.

"Oh, let's not fight", he interrupted, his voice light, "So, I heard you got married and the missus popped out a couple of babies a few years back. That true?" Mark was playing with his fingernail, as if the information mattered little to him.

"You hear a lot in here, don't you?"

"Well, we have to do something to pass the time."

Jeff felt the need to turn the subject away from his family. It disturbed him that Mark even knew about them.

"I don't suppose you're even slightly curious as to why I'm here after ten years?", asked Jeff.

"Sure I'm curious", replied Mark, leaning back in his chair and narrowing his eyes as if he were trying to pick the information from his brain, "But I don't get visitors very often. I wanna chat."

"Well, we don't have time to chat", said Jeff angrily, "I have to ask you something." He paused for a moment, as if steeling himself, then took a deep breath. "I need to know why you did… what you did. I just… need to know, for my own sanity."

Mark looked at him for a moment. Then he burst out laughing. He slapped his knee, as if he'd been told a particularly funny joke.

Jeff stared at him, not knowing how to react.

"God damn you, stop it!", he cried suddenly, unable to stop himself, "Nothing about this is funny, you sick fuck!"

Mark stopped laughing. His dark eyes settled on Jeff, their depths churning like an angry sea. Jeff remembered that expression. He'd seen it every time the Deadman had abused him. Every time he had raped him.

Unconsciously, Hardy curled in on himself, unable to meet Mark's gaze.

"What's wrong, Jeffrey? Did you think that by coming here and talking to me it would erase what I did to you?"

Jeff looked up, tears falling unchecked down his face. "You are an incredible bastard", he said softly.

"And you", replied Mark, "are the hottest piece of ass I ever had in all my life." He looked around, then leaned forward, whispering, "I'll confess something to you, Jeffrey. If they let me out of here, I'd do it all over again. It would be worth it, for one more night with you." He licked his lips, and grinned.

Jeff scooted the chair away, and rose. "Fuck you."

"I've already had that pleasure, thank you very much."

Mark was just playing with him now.

Jeff moved to leave, a hurt and worn expression on his handsome face.

"Thought you wanted an answer, Hardy." The voice sounded distant and tinny through the discarded telephone receiver lying dormant on Jeff's side of the counter.

Jeff turned, glaring. He stalked over and picked up the phone. "You already gave me one", he replied, "You did it because you're a disgusting human being, and you're out of your fucking mind. There. I have my closure now." He closed his eyes in pain for a moment, before looking at Mark again. "I don't know why I ever came here. Mark, I sincerely wish that you'd died in that house with Raven. It would've made things a lot easier on everyone, I think."

Mark smiled bitterly. "Maybe I _should've_ died that day, boy. I hurt people if I'm around 'em too long. But there's not too much I can do about that."

Jeff stared at him for a moment longer, his green eyes dark with both rage and fear. "I hope you fucking rot in here", he snarled viciously. He dropped the phone, and walked out, not looking back.

Mark watched him leave, enjoying the sway of his hips and ass as he departed.

"Jeffrey", he mused quietly, smirking, "my pretty little bitch…"

"Let's go, Calloway", barked one of the officers.

He stood and began walking towards the door, flanked by three guards. As he was escorted back to his cell, memories began to flood back, dark and overwhelming. He recalled the many times he'd broken Jeff, in countless backwoods hotel rooms, culminating in that final, terrible, wonderful night in the farmhouse.

Wonderful, and terrible.

Mark grinned.

He would sleep well tonight, and dream of the farmhouse, and of Jeffrey, and of better days.

* * * * * * *

**Well, that's that folks! Hope you enjoyed it! Exit out the back and down the stairs, and don't forget to tip your bartender! (The bartender prefers Reviews as currency, if you have them.)**

**Thank You, and Goodnight! ;)**


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